Hell's Angel
by Nightwingbellamy
Summary: Dani Dylan, a Private Investigator by day, comes to Hell's Kitchen for a fresh start. Little does she know, her past refuses to stay hidden after a local reporter, Alison Fletcher, comes to Nelson and Murdock seeking help burying hers. But when an Angel meets the Devil, light meets dark, and Hell's Kitchen will change forever.
1. Angel

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

It's the middle of the night. The rains refusing to let up as I lock the front door. The porch light flickers a few times before going out, leaving me in total darkness. I sigh as I flip my hood up on my head, making a mental note to fix it later. I pull the car keys out of my pocket, preparing to step out into the rain. The neighbor's porch light flips on as a woman storms out of the house.

She marches down the drive way to her car, a man close behind her. "How dare you," she said, turning on her heels to face him. I slowly slink back into the shadows. I'll just wait until their done. I'm not going to get caught up in their drama.

"It was never supposed to go this far," he tells her. I can barely make out the man's appearance. But the woman was facing me, the porch light lighting up her face. "What I'm offering you is more than necessary to…take care of things and then start a new life for yourself."

"'Take care of things'? What is the matter with you?" she asked, rage boiling in her eyes. "No! No, I will not 'take care of it'." The man sighed as he glanced around the neighborhood.

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way." He moved too fast for her to react, jabbing his hand into her throat and then spinning her, cupping her mouth as he dragged her back inside. The door slammed shut and then the porch light turned off. My heart beat against my rib cage uncontrollably. What is going on? Did he really just…?

I take a deep breath and pull out my cell phone. I unlock the screen and then quickly start dialing 9-1-1. The phone beeps at me, claiming it's battery is too drained to make the call. I swore under my breath, shoving the phone back in my pocket. No one's coming to help that girl. No one even knows she needs help.

I glance around and then head across the grass to the front door. This is really stupid. I slowly place my hand on the door knob and then, ever so slightly, turn it. He left it unlocked. I gently push the door open and then step inside. Five feet away from me he stood over the top of her with a gun. She lies on the floor, blood pouring from her nose as she pleaded for her life.

And in the blink of an eye, all the panic I was feeling, vanished. I marched forward as she gasped at my presence in the room. The man turned, swinging the gun in my direction. I quickened my pace, covering the distance between us. My left hand latched onto his wrist as I pushed it up, forcing the gun into the air.

I curled my right hand into a fist a split second before it made contact with his throat. The impact caused him to pull the trigger. The bullet hit the ceiling, but the girl screamed anyway. I slipped the gun out of his right hand, as I put mine on the back of his head and grabbed a fist full of hair. I quickly brought my knee up as I brought his head down.

At that, he went limp and fell to the floor. I ejected the gun's clip, letting it fall to the floor. I turned to face the girl. She looked up at me, shocked, as tears still stained her face. "Do you have a land line?" She quickly nodded. "Good. Call the police. Then pack your things and leave town. Better yet, leave the state."

"Why?" she croaked.

"Because men like him don't give up just because you put them behind bars," I replied. "He'll come back for you and next time I might not be there to stop him." I rubbed my sweatshirt over the gun a few times, trying to wipe away my finger prints. Then I tossed it to the side and headed for the door.

"Wait!" she called out. I looked at her and she was standing now. "Who are you?" I realized my hood was still up, that she probably didn't see my face. I hear sirens in the distance. I turn without a word and run out the door.

 **Hell's Kitchen. 10 years later.**

I launch myself out the window, a couple seconds after they did, and land on the scaffolding a few feet down. My opponent's already on his feet, whereas, the man in the black mask appears to be knocked out on the concrete below. I'm still not sure whose side he's on, but so far, the man in front of me is the only one trying to kill me.

I know my bow won't do me any good this close, so I decide to use it as a weapon instead. He swings his right fist at me and I duck to miss it. As I come up, his other fist gets me in the jaw. I stumble back a few steps, regaining my balance. I wrapped my right arm around the pole next to me before planting my boot in his chest.

He slammed into the rail behind him as I smacked my bow against the side of his face. Blood spewed from his mouth as he went off the edge, landing hard on the ground, feet below. The fall seemed to take its toll for only a second. The man in the mask was on him before he could get to his feet.

I ran to the stairs and then hurried down them. I faced the two men, both throwing more punches then I could count. I rolled my right shoulder in its socket, testing it. It's still really sore from the other night. I try to ignore it and reach behind me for an arrow, as the man gets on top of the man in the mask and begins strangling him.

My fingers grasp the arrow and I pause. I readjust my grip on my bow, the rain causing it to slip out of my hands. Then, I take a deep breath…and then in a split second, I've loaded the bow, aimed, and fired. The arrow lodged itself into the man's shoulder blade. He screams, loosening his grip, giving the man in the mask the upper hand.

He punches him in the side of the head a few times before pushing him to the side. Both men roll away from each other, as I hear my arrow snapping. The Mask got on his hands and knees, before collapsing to the ground and rolling onto his back. The other guy, tried to get up too. But, he caught sight of his knife, instead.

I ran up to him. His hand grabbed the knife before I could kick it out of the way. He swung the knife low, slicing my lower right leg. I instantly hit the ground, rolling onto my right side. I kicked him in the face as hard as I could, sending him flying back. The Mask caught him and didn't waste any time trying to get the knife away from him. He put him in a chokehold, and then the man pushed back against him.

His head made contact with the Mask's, giving him a chance to slip out of his grip. Now the two stood a few feet apart, waiting for the other to make a move. The Mask reached behind him and grabbed the chain hanging down from the scaffolding, as the man came at him with the knife.

The Mask dodged the man's swing and then wrapped the chain around his arm followed by his head. He pulled the chain tight and then let him hang there by it, as he punched him several more times. Then he jumped, spun, and kicked the man in the head, knocking him out. The Mask hit the ground, rolling onto his back.

I rolled over onto my hands and knees and then pushed myself up. I got to my feet, but then stumbled when I tried to put pressure on my right leg. I caught myself before I fell and then stood up straight. My bow was on the ground a few feet away. I tried to ignore the pain in my leg and walked up to it. I picked it up and then startled at the sound of a woman's voice.

I turned around and saw the woman from the apartment this whole fight started in. She's the one the man was trying to kill. The Mask was now standing and in front of the man, searching his pockets. He didn't look up at the girl as she gawked at us.

"What the..?" the woman said. She was still scared and shocked from what just happened. The Mask pulled something out of the man's pocket and held it up. Then he looked up at her.

"I'll get this into the right hands." He slowly started backing away from her.

"No. You can't," she said, as he kept walking. "You can't take it to the police, you can't trust anyone!" He stopped walking and then turned around.

"Then we tell everyone." His breathing was still heavy, and it was more than clear he was injured. But, so am I. The rain stung as it landed in my open wound. There's no need for me to stay, the bad guy's been dealt with and this…vigilante seems to have things covered. So, before he has the chance of stopping me, I slip into the shadows and disappear.

 **Alison's POV  
** (bellamysgirl)

My fingers worked quickly to roll down the top of the brown paper bag on the counter in front of me while my teeth held onto my paper and pen. It seems like multitasking has become second to racing against the clock on my list of skills. "Chase!" The word came out muffled, sounding odd around the paper in my mouth. "We're gonna be late!" I finished rolling down the bag and pulled the pen and paper from my mouth, putting it on the counter next to the bag.

I was only just barely able to have time for breakfast this morning, and pre-making lunch—my best bet for getting anywhere with Chase on time—became less of an option than flying him to school. "Chase Mathew Fletcher, if you're not out here in five minutes-"

"I'm here!" Chase almost flew into the kitchen counter in his burst of speed heading into the room. I was able to swing my arm out to catch him before he could. "Whoa! Easy there," I steadied him, and then grabbed the paper bag off the counter. "Brush your teeth?"

"Yep," he nodded.

"Make your bed?"

"Yep," he nodded again.

"Good job. Where's your coat?" I asked, eyeing his empty shoulders pointedly. His eyes rounded a moment. Then he tore out of the kitchen at warp speed, skidding around the corner toward the front door. I swear, that kid would make tire marks on glass. I sighed, pulling my purse strap onto my shoulder, then I left the kitchen, walking around the corner to the front door. Our tiny two-bedroom apartment doesn't allow for much space. It's like living in a shoe box made for rats.

But, when that's all you can afford, it's all you get. Chase just finished pulling his back pack over his coat as I arrived at the coat rack by the door. "Ready to go?" I asked him.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess," he moped, adjusting his straps. I pulled my coat off the rack and opened the door, holding it for him. "Come on, Grumpy Cat. Your school work isn't going to do itself," I gestured for him to exit with a smile.

"That's the dream," he said, almost in awe a second. Then he snapped out of it and started out of the apartment. I raised an eyebrow and shook my head, chuckling once before following him out, making sure to lock the door behind me. After dropping Chase off at Sacred Heart Elementary, I drove to the next stop on my list of things to do today—finding a lawyer.

I parked along the sidewalk just down the street from the office. I found it when I was out scouting yesterday. It wasn't the most A-lister building—but I didn't need A-lister. I needed affordable legal help and advice. Plus, this was the closest place I could find. I pushed through the door to the building, stepping into a dimly lit hallway of doors. I closed the door behind me and started through. My eyes scanned each door as I passed, until they caught something.

I stopped and turned left to face the door. On it was a cut-out cardboard sign with _Nelson And Murdock_ written on it in black sharpie. I inhaled. My knuckles rapped on the wooden part of the door, beside the window, and I stepped back to wait. Nothing. An empty silence followed. Maybe they weren't open today? But I waited another moment, just to make sure.

I startled slightly as the door whipped open and a young-looking blonde woman smiled brightly at me. "Hi," I started. "Um, I don't have an appointment-"

"That's alright. Please, come in," the woman moved aside, pulling the door open further for me to enter, gesturing me to come inside the office. I smiled politely and stepped inside, and she closed the door behind me. "What brings you to Nelson and Murdock?" she asked, walking around me to stand in front of the desk center-room, facing me.

"Well, I need some legal advice. I was hoping I could ask a lawyer a few questions?" I fished. I wasn't sure what the procedure or legal protocol was, so I took a fifty/fifty stab. "Of course," My head snapped left at the sudden voice. "Legal advice is one of the many services we offer here."

A man with brown hair and dark glasses stood in the doorway of an office room. The blonde woman quickly spoke up. "Oh, this is Matt Murdock," she introduced. "Matt, this is…" It was only then I realized I hadn't given her my name.

"Alison Fletcher," I supplied. I had the urge to hold out my hand to shake, but I noticed something in his hands. My eyes followed further down to the full front of the walking stick. He was blind. A blind lawyer? How does that work, exactly? I kept my skeptical thoughts to myself—along with my hands—and the blonde woman next introduced herself. "I'm Karen, by the way," she smiled.

"Nice to meet you," I smiled back, this time holding out a hand. She shook it briefly, then moved to sit behind the desk. "Miss Fletcher, would you like to join me in my office?" Mr. Murdock asked, from the doorway to the office.

"Sure." I didn't really know what to say exactly, so I kept it to a minimum answer and followed him into the office. He maneuvered around his desk near the back wall and sat, then gestured a hand out toward the chair opposite him. "Please, sit," I stepped over toward the desk and sat in the chair, trying to gather my questions in my head. "What kind of questions do you have, Miss Fletcher?"

I inhaled. "My ex-boyfriend has been threatening me."

"Verbally or physically?" he asked.

"Both. I came to New York—not only for my new job—but to get away from him. He always seems to find me, and recently I've been feeling really uneasy about leaving my apartment. I feel like I'm being watched, he'll just show up out of the blue— _in my apartment_ —it's just getting out of hand," I explained, as calmly as possible.

"Do you know why he's following you? Has he made any demands?" he asked, sitting up a bit in his chair.

"He wants custody of my son," I answered. "We weren't together when I had him, but it's his child." He was quiet a second, most likely thinking. Faint voices caught my attention and I turned in my chair to see through the window, into the main room. Karen was talking to a man with just above shoulder-length blondish-red hair in a suit. Just as I turned back to face the desk, the man walked into the office. "Hi there," he smiled, stopping a foot into the office.

"Foggy, this Alison Fletcher," Mr. Murdock introduced. "She's just here for some legal advice."

"Foggy Nelson. Nice to meet you," the man said, stepping for with an outstretched hand. I smiled, shaking his hand. "Mind if I sit in? Sometimes two lawyers are better than one."

"Of course," I nodded. Mr. Nelson pulled a chair over from the corner of the room, sitting in it on Mr. Murdock's side of the desk. He listened intently as Mr. Murdock continued the conversation. "Then he's going to sue you for custody?" he asked, not really a question, as if the conversation never ended.

"I don't know. He hasn't taken any action yet but, frankly, he's scaring me. He's definitely not a man that should be trusted with a child's care," I answered.

"What makes you say that?" Mr. Nelson enquired. Just sitting in, huh? My mind scrambled for a better explanation. Better than the truth. But I couldn't find one. So I took a deep breath and spoke. "I got pregnant when we were dating. When I told him, he wrote me a check and told me to 'take care of it'," I used my fingers as air quotes, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "I refused to get an abortion, and…"

"And what, Miss Fletcher?" Mr. Murdock asked, somewhat-quietly.

"And he beat me, pointed a gun at my face. He nearly killed me," I finished.

"Nearly?" Mr. Nelson asked, his eyebrows raised.

I nodded. "Some woman showed up out of the blue, knocked him out, and told me to disappear. I've been practically on the run ever since," I answered, keeping my tone level. "But I know him, he's going to try and take me to court. I just don't know what to do."

"Well, it sounds like-"

Mr. Murdock started to speak, but was interrupted by an epiphany-stricken Mr. Nelson. "Wait, Matt. I think I know someone who can help," he said. He then quickly stood from his chair and hurried into the main room.


	2. Private Investigator

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Mr. Murdock sighed, standing to my left. "When did she say she'd be here?" he asked, sounding a mixture of impatience and annoyance. I was starting to get there myself. This 'person that could help' was supposedly coming to the office, but it's been a while since Mr. Nelson called, and both Mr. Murdock and I doubted her arrival. Of course, Mr. Nelson was like an ad for breakfast cereal.

"I don't know what to say, she's usual quite punctual," Mr. Nelson said, standing across the main room from me. "She'll be here. Just wait." Suddenly a tall, dark haired woman that looked to be around my age walked through the door to the office. "There she is!" Mr. Nelson beamed, overly excited. "Where have you been?"

"Sorry, Foggy. I was working a case," the woman replied, with an easy smile. They hugged briefly, and then he jumped into introductions, not wasting a second. A _case_? Hm. "Guys, this is Danielle Dylan," he said, as she held out her hand for me to shake.

"Everyone just calls me Dani," she smiled politely.

"Alison Fletcher," I smiled back lightly, shaking her hand. "Alison is fine." She shook hands with Karen, and they shared a brief _nice to meet you_. Then Mr. Nelson gave Dani's shoulder a shove and she gave him a 'what for?' look. "This is my good friend, Matt," Mr. Nelson said, making a gesture toward Mr. Murdock, who seemed to stay quiet through the whole introduction.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Dylan," Mr. Murdock said. "Foggy tells me you're a Private Investigator?"

"Yes. Investigating shady people is my number one specialty," she nodded, crossing her arms loosely.

"Our client, Miss Fletcher, has an ex boyfriend that's been following her," Mr. Nelson explained, moving to stand beside her. "I was thinking maybe you could at least help us get enough ground for a restraining order? To start with, anyway."

She nodded, thinking. "Okay. Who's the boyfriend?"

"Steve Dawson," I answered.

"Why don't we move into the conference room?" Mr. Nelson suggested, turning halfway, gesturing to a room behind him. Dani was the first one heading into the room, followed by Karen. Mr. Nelson followed after them and I glanced at Mr. Murdock. "After you, Miss Fletcher," he smiled lightly. I smiled back, though I knew he couldn't see it, and hurried after the others into the room. Mr. Nelson and Mr. Murdock sat on the back side of the table mid-room.

Dani and Karen sat closest to the door, near the end. I sat in the last available seat—mid-table opposite Mr. Nelson—and angled myself toward the others. "When has your ex been following you?" Dani asked, the start of what I'm sure would be a barrage of questions. "Is it a constant occurrence, or only during specific times of day?"

She held a pad of paper and a pen, the pen poised to write at a moment's notice. "It's constant. I'm not one-hundred percent sure it's him, though. It's more I know I'm being watched and he's the only one I know is crazy enough to stalk someone," I explained.

"Okay…" she scribbled on the pad, then looked back up at me, bouncing her dark waves off her shoulder. "Why would he be following you?" I inwardly cringed. How many times would I have to retell this? As many as it took. I took in a breath. "He wants my son," I put it simply, as to not go incredibly into triggering details.

"He's the father?" she assumed, fishing.

"Yes." She nodded and she wrote some more on the paper, then she tore off the page and slid the pad across the table toward me, rolling the pen along with it. "I need you to write down your daily routine. Places you visit often, what kind of car you drive, where you live, all the times you can think of that he's followed you," she listed, her tone serious, professional. I nodded my head a little, pulling the paper in front of me, taking the pen in my hand. "Where do you work?"

"Oh, I work at The Bulletin. But I work at the Square nights and weekends," I answered.

"The Square?" Mr. Murdock asked.

"The Square Diner," I elaborated, writing down my address on the paper. "It's not far from my son's school." That reminded me to also write that down. I didn't know what exactly was pertinent information—so I wrote down everything and anything I could think of. Even things that probably wouldn't be needed. It was a possibility so I went for it. "Do you work there tonight?" Dani asked.

"My shift starts at seven," I nodded, looking up at her.

"Do you have a nanny?" she asked. I shook my head, and she nodded. "I'll watch your son while you work, in case he comes by again." I hadn't thought of that before but, now that I did, my body flooded with relief. Chase really shouldn't be home alone. Not when his psychotic father was lurking about. So I thanked her for the offer and continued writing down my information.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

To be honest, I was shocked to hear from Foggy. It's been a few years since I'd seen him last. I forgot he even had my number. But, I'm glad he called. I think I can help Alison with her man trouble, like I did all those years ago. Maybe not as forceful, this time. She did a pretty good job of filling out the note pad. Most of the stuff she wrote down I have to pry out of people.

I paced in my office, just before the desk, staring at her writing. I twirled the pen I was chewing on between my thumb and index finger. So, I guess this means he never stopped following her. And she hasn't stopped following me. Or at least, my…other half. I toss the note pad on my desk and then circle it, walking to the chair.

I turn my laptop back on as I sit down. It comes to life and I type in my password. I click on the first search bar I come to and type in this guy's name: Steve Dawson. Apparently, a lot of people like that name. I spent the next three hours combing through the list until I think I found the right one.

An old social media account set up twelve years ago says he's married and lives in Miami. Frankly, I don't think either one of those are true. And then after a few phone calls, I'm right back where I started. Nowhere. His 'boss' at some 7 Eleven claims he doesn't know anyone by that name. This 'wife', doesn't even exist from what I can tell.

This guy has covered his tracks so well…this had to be professional. This loser couldn't have pulled this off alone. But why does he want the kid? After all this time? What's changed? I glance down to the bottom corner of my screen. 6:29pm. That's my queue to leave. I need to be on time, this time.

I stand and walk to the coat rack in the corner. I grab my black leather jacket and slip it on as I make my way to the large mirror hanging on the back of the office door. I pull my wavy, almost black, hair out of the collar and let it fall across my shoulders. Then I do a once over. Black leather boots, faded silver tights, light purple knee high skirt, and with a tank top almost the same shade.

I don't like wearing skirts all the time, but I have to in this line of work. Gives people a chance to underestimate me. Nobody would expect someone dressed like a perky teenager to accuse them of an affair, or worse. I roll my eyes and head for the front door. I switch the sign to 'closed' before locking it behind me.

Thankfully I don't have to go far. Alison's apartment is just across the street from my office/home. I don't exactly know which it is these days. I walk down the hall and then jog down the stairs. I reach the bottom step and am painfully reminded of last night. I look down at my right calf muscle. The color of the tights masks the white bandages below. But I should walk slower. These tights aren't going to cover up blood if I rip the stitches.

I wince as I put my weight back on it and then continue walking, heading out the building's door. I walk to the edge of the road and then stop, waiting for cars to pass. Something catches my eye and I look up from the road, to the alley next to Alison's building. A man is stumbling down the alley.

But, it's not the "I'm drunk" kind of stumbling. More like the "I'm hurt" kind. His back was toward me until he turned to the left, facing the building. I sucked in a deep breath as I realized who he was. The man from the other night. The man in the black mask. What is he doing here, why is he here? And what happened to him?

He trips on something, causing him to stumble and crash into the side of a dumpster. He slides down to the floor, where he stays. Too many cars are going by for me to safely cross without causing a scene. And on top of that, I've got to be at Alison's in five minutes to watch her kid. So? What do I do?

If I help him I could expose myself, reveal to everyone who I am. But…I can't just leave an injured person to die on the side of the road. The line of cars starts to thin out as he gets to his feet. Probably using the last bit of strength he had left, he lifted himself up and into the dumpster. Why would he do that? Why didn't he just go to his house?

I see my opening and I take it. I ignore the pain in my leg and run across the road. A cab honks, even though there was ten feet between us. As I reach the other side, it dawns on me: he's probably is too hurt to make it home, but he has people looking for him so he needed a place to hide.

As soon as that thought entered my head I wish it hadn't. That means, whoever helps him is in for it too. I shake my head, ignoring my thoughts of doubt and walk up to the dumpster. I guess it's a good hide out. But the trail of blood leading to the dumpster would have given him away, eventually.

He appears to be passed out, and in a lot worse condition than I was hoping. Which means I don't have what it takes to patch him up. It also means…I know someone who does. And she's not going to like it.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My fingers danced across the keys of my laptop keyboard. The New York Recovery story was due tomorrow, and I was only just now finishing it. Typical me—master procrastinator. I thought I could get it done earlier this afternoon, but I didn't start until a half hour ago. My heart was sent into the stratosphere when a haste series of knocks sounded on the front door. That would probably be Dani. She offered to watch Chase while I worked my shift at Square.

Which, note to self, starts in _ten_ minutes? I sighed and closed my laptop, setting it aside, and hurried to the front door. I unlocked the series of locks on the door and pulled it open. As soon as I did, Dani bum rushed into my apartment, half-dragging a man in a black and bloodied suit behind her. He seemed to be unconscious. But what caught my eye was the trail of blood he was leaving behind. My eyes shot wide. "Dani, what-"

"I found him in the dumpster outside," she said, lectureously, as if expecting my response. "Can you help him?" I quickly closed the door, locking it tight, then hurried over to her where she stood, holding him up mid-living room. I directed her to lay him on the floor, and she did. "Mom?" I spun around. Chase stood in the doorway to the living room from the hall. I hurried over to him and turned him around by his shoulders, ushering him back the other way. "Chase, honey, I need you to go to your room okay?" I said, trying to keep my voice light, even.

"But-"

"Chase, go." I gave his shoulders a shove and he darted for his bedroom. As soon as his door was shut, I jumped into action. I knelt beside the man and raised an eyebrow at the black mask covering most of his face. Then I turned to Dani. "My medical kit is under the bathroom sink in the hall," I said, directing her to the cracked bathroom door with my index finger. She lurched to her feet and ran toward the bathroom. I turned back to the man bleeding out on my floor.

This was ridiculous. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed nine-one-one. Just as I put the phone up to my ear, fingers encircled my wrist and gripped tightly. My whole body jerked in surprise and a small gasp escaped me. "No calls…no hospitals," the man wheezed. My heart pounded in my chest, but I tried to take a calming breath.

"You're going to bleed out if I don't get you to a hospital," I explained, slowly.

"No, they'll kill everyone," he argued.

" _They_?" My eyebrows knitted together. Suddenly Dani arrived, kneeling on his other side with the kit tucked under her arm. I took the phone from my ear and ended the dialing call. "Fine, no hospitals." I eased my phone away and his hand dropped back to his side, off my wrist. "Dani, the bag," I held out my hand and jutted my chin toward her side. She quickly fumbled it over to me from across him and I immediately unzipped it, riffling through for supplies.

I was severely under stocked on…well, just about everything. But I'd just have to make what I had work. The man groaned as he rolled onto his side, trying to get up. "Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Dani asked, pushing him back down.

"The men who did this will come for me—they'll kill both of you," he wheezed, his chest heaving for a breath. My eyes caught on the stream of red smearing down his neck. I leaned across him and gently tipped his head aside. Blood seeped through his black head covering. My eye scanned further down—across his middle, over his arms. I found at least two more actively bleeding wounds. I started going through the steps in my mind.

Needle and thread, sew up the stab wound in his side. Put stitches in the cut on his arm. Further examine the head injury. When doing something like this, always prioritize. You'd think the head would be the most important. But I didn't find an open wound so the blood could just be a stain, or from someone else. So the most important thing right now is to stop any bleeding.

I dug through the bag and pulled out my medical suture kit. It's been years since I've needed to use any of this. Thankfully, I remembered how to thread a needle. "What can I do?" Dani asked, looking to me. I held the end of the thread with my teeth to hold it in the needle, then shoved the medical kit in her general direction. She took it, setting it in her lap.

I spit out the thread. "Find as many gauze pads as you can. Try and see if there's wrapping."

She nodded and her hands dug into the bag. Once I had the needle ready, I got in a position to see the stab wound on his side. Then I got to work. My hands were shaky, off centered, trying to keep hold of the needle as it went in and out. I had maybe two stitches in when I heard a strangled, "Mom?" My head snapped up to Chase, where he stood a foot out from the hallway. "Who is that? Why is he bleeding?"

"Chase, go back to your room," I instructed, trying—and failing—to keep my voice calm. "Mommy needs some space, okay?" He nodded a little, his eyes glued to the man bleeding on my floor. Then he quickly snapped around and darted back down the hallway. I exhaled, turning back to the wound. It was harder than I'd remembered from all those years ago.

Focusing, along with keeping the needle in my bloodied hands, was the hardest part. I was able to fall back into the rhythm, putting in another two stitches. After a few seconds of quiet, Dani huffed. "There's no wrap," she said, seeming annoyed. "I'll run across the street to my apartment and see if I have some."

"Fine. Just hurry." She pushed the bag off her lap and stood, then raced to the door. I took a deep breath as the door clicked shut behind her. My whole body was mildly shaking. This man, dying on my floor—I know who he is. The infamous 'Man in the Mask' running around Hell's Kitchen. The good deeds don't outweigh the damage. He suddenly stirred, huffing out a breath. "I need…to leave," his voice was a hardly audible whisper.

"You're not going anywhere, okay? Not until I finish stitching you," I said. A pang of guilt hit my chest. I exhaled through my nose. "Don't worry…I've got you."


	3. In a Mask

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I close the door behind me and stop. I close my eyes and take a breath. Just focus on the task at hand. If someone really does come looking for him, I'll deal with it then. My cell phone in my left jacket pocket starts vibrating, stopping me from lowering my heart rate. I quickly reached in my jacket to pull out the phone.

But this isn't _my_ phone. It's my other half's. Only one person on the planet has the number to this phone: Chase. I flip it open and answer it as I start walking towards the stairs. "Hello?" his voice squeaks on the other end. "Angel?"

"I'm here," I replied. Angel. That's been his nickname for me ever since he found out about me. And since I wouldn't tell him my real name, he felt the need to find a different one. "What's wrong? This number is for life and death emergencies." I can't let him I know I already know why he's calling.

"It is!" I pulled the phone away from my ear as he shouted the words. "It is, really. Some woman brought this guy to our house. He's hurt, but he's wearing a mask. I think he's the guy I've heard about at school."

"Yeah, kid, I know who you're talking about," I said as I exited the building. "I ran into him the other night."

"Did _you_ hurt him?!"

"No, of course not. But, I'll find out who did, I promise you that." I entered my building and headed up the stairs. Once I made it to my door I fumbled with the keys. "Just hang tight, Okay? I'll be there in a minute and I'll help sort this out."

"Okay. Is this guy evil, are we in danger by him being here?"

"No, he's not evil." At least I don't think. I burst into my 'apartment' and start stripping; throwing clothes everywhere as I walked through the office and into my room. "As far as the danger part, I don't know. That's why I'm coming. Just stay put, I'll be there in a second."

I closed the phone and tossed it on the bed. I can't talk and change at the same time. I walked into my small walk-in closet, flip on the light. I parted the hanging clothes and then put my hand on the back wall, feeling for the latch. Once my fingers found it, I grabbed it and slid the panel of the wall over.

I stepped inside, turned around, put the clothes back where they belonged, and then closed the panel behind me. I grabbed the chain hanging down in the middle of the room and pulled, turning on the light. I always get butterflies every time I see my suit. I grinned, then grabbed my black leggings.

I slipped them on and then reached for my black tank top with a high neck. My feet slid into my black leather knee high boots, as I simultaneously slid an arm guard onto my left forearm. After strapping it down, I put on my blue leather jacket, zipping it all the way.

I spun on my heel and eyed my collection of bleach blonde wigs. My hand flew to the one with a long, thick braid that goes down the left shoulder and a few loose bangs hanging down on the forehead. Out of all the ones I've tried, this one's my favorite. I pulled my quiver off the wall, checked its contents, and then swung it over my shoulder.

I picked up my bow with my left hand and then looked up at the next shelf, where my glasses sat. I picked them up and held them in my hand a second, making sure the blue tinted lenses were clean before putting them on. I turned the light off and then walked to the back of the room, to the roof exit.

It only took me a couple minutes to get to Alison's building, and then another thirty seconds to climb the fire escape that leads to Chase's room. I figure this is better than the front door. If someone catches me, especially whoever's looking for the Mask, it won't be good for the Fletchers.

I rap my knuckles on the window a few times and then wait. Chase's face presses firmly against the window, smearing something on it before he decided to open it. I pulled a knife out of my boot and used it to pop the screen out of it's socket. "That _was_ fast!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah. Now, try not alerting the _whole_ neighborhood to my presence."

"Oh, sorry."

"Where's your mom?"

"She's still out there with him." He added a little extra emphasis on 'him', almost like he was a tad jealous. "But I snuck out there any way. You missed it, the guy almost died." _What?!_ That's not good, really not good.

"Move." He quickly stepped to the side as I climbed in the window. "Keep the window locked. I'll fix the screen later." He closed the window as I walked to the door. I put my hand on the knob and then turned to look at him. "I need you to stay here, Chase. Just a little longer and then you can come out."

"Okay." He sounded a little too excited to stay put.

"And no peeking." He quickly nodded.

"I won't," he said. I wonder if his mom knows he'd rather listen to me than her. Of course, he thinks I'm some legendary hero. In his head, I've probably saved millions and killed a thousand well armed men with my bare hands. Kids these days. I nodded in his direction and then exited the room, making sure I made a lot of noise.

The last time Alison and I met like this she claimed I 'snuck up on her'. There were a few curse words in there too, but none worth repeating. I half slammed the door behind me. Alison's gaze quickly turned in my direction, her eyes locking on me. She looked a little speechless at first. She shook her head, as if to be sure she was really seeing me.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" Alison asked, sitting on the edge of her coffee table.

"Who is it?" I heard the Mask ask her. He must be lying on the couch, just out of my sight.

"Don't worry." She looked down at him. "She's a…vigilante, I guess. A lot like you, I think. Of course, I guess I don't know much about either of you." She sighed, her attention going to the hem of her shirt where her fingers were fidgeting. Then, she abruptly looked up at him. "Are you even one of the good guys?"

"Yes," he replied, breathing a little heavy.

"Good," I said, walking closer to them. "We need more men like you." I walked around the table and stood behind Alison, his gaze following me as I did.

"You're the one who helped me the other night?"

"Yeah," I replied.

Alison looked up at me. "So, you two have worked together?" she asked. "Is that how you knew he was here?"

"Yes and no. Chase called me."

"He has you're number?!" She stood.

"After what happened last time, and since this is the fourth city you've followed me to, yes, I thought I'd be a good idea if he had a way to reach me."

"Well, thank you for telling, now." She sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is too much. I'm supposed to be at work right now, not waiting for some guy to die on my couch. And that would be bad for everyone involved. So, I need a good reason why I can't just dump him at a hospital and be done with this." She pointed at him as she stared at me.

I understand where she's coming from. Even after all she's been through she still tries to hold onto a 'normal' life. One where her boyfriend didn't try to kill her, where she isn't struggling to raise her son even though she works two jobs. But, most importantly, one where she doesn't need saving. I used to think about what I'd be like if I was 'normal', then stopped when it got too depressing.

I diverted my gaze from her's as I blew air out my nose, knowing full well whatever answer I could come up with, wouldn't be good enough. "They kidnapped a boy." Alison and I both whipped our heads in the Mask's direction. He sighed, still trying to catch his breath from whatever happened before I showed.

"Who did?" I asked.

"The Russians. They've been running a human trafficking ring out of Hell's Kitchen."

"I heard they took over when the Italians left," I nodded.

"What does this have to do with it?" Alison asked, more impatient than anything.

"They pulled a kid out of the back of a van." He looked at Alison. I knew she wouldn't comment, but he added: "Beat his father while he watched." She closed her eyes, probably picturing that happening to her and Chase. "I knew the kid would still be alive. At least until they took him out of the city. I tracked the Russians to a warehouse not far from here. Thought I was being smart, how fast I found them."

"But, they were waiting," I said, knowing how this story had ended. He nodded. Alison crossed her arms, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

"So, you've been trying to stop them…" Alison paused, thinking. "And so they decided to stop you? By taking someone's kid?"

"Alison," I said. "Why don't you go see Chase, tell him everything's fine out here, okay?" She looked at me indecisively, then nodded and left the room. I waited until the door closed behind her to start talking again. "They still have the kid?" He nodded. "So, they're probably still looking for you," I thought aloud.

But he didn't seem to be listening…or at least, to me. "You still with us?" He shushed me and then continued listening intently.

"There's a man going door to door," he finally said. "He's on the third floor." I kind of took a step back and shook my head.

"You have super hearing?" It came out more like a statement than a question. He started propping himself up, ignoring me.

"He smells like Prima cigarettes and discount cologne."

"Oh…great," I said sarcastically. "Got any other superpowers?" He sat up, groaning the whole way. Once he was up, he stopped a second and looked at me. "No. I'm not _too_ surprised you can smell a man on the third floor. But if it's you he's after, you need to hide. You're in no condition for a fight." I took a few steps closer, and then came down wrong on my leg. I felt the stitches tear and clenched down any sign of the pain.

"Looks like I'm not the only one," he said. Right, of course. If he can smell that guy, he can smell the blood. Alison and Chase came out of his room. I looked up at them, "Perfect timing."

"What?" Alison asked.

"We need a diversion, which means I need your help." Her expression only slightly changed, but I didn't stop for a reply. I walked around the coffee table and to the Mask. I slid my arm around his back as he put his arm across my shoulders, then pulled him to his feet. He clenched his teeth against the pain as I lead him into another room.

"What are you going to do?" he asked as I laid him on the bed, in what appears to be the guest room.

"Depends. You sure this guy's one of the bad ones?"

"Yeah." He groaned as he lay down. I nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. I pulled Alison aside, away from Chase, and told her my plan. Of course she thought I was crazy, but went along with it anyway. My plan was for Alison to answer the door. But, instead of getting him to leave, she got him to come inside.

Once he was in, I knocked him out with my bow. Alison quickly realized she had _another_ injured guy on her living room floor and looked like she wanted to hit me. Now she's mad at both halves of me. One brought some bleeding guy to her and the other caused one to bleed. What she doesn't realize is that this is an off night for me too.

"What are you going to do with him?" she asked me.

"Use him." The Mask walked out of the guest room as Chase came out of his.

I looked back at Alison. "Take Chase to work with you, pretend like this never happened."

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"It's better than staying here," the Mask said. "But, she's right. We were never here." Alison nodded, then walked past us to Chase. He'd packed a bag with some things to do, like I told him. "I don't even know if they'll still let me work there. I'm almost an hour late," Alison helped Chase put his jacket on.

"Traffic," I said. "Car trouble. Accident. Just say something credible and you should be fine." She nodded as she draped her arm across Chase's shoulders, guiding him to the door. She picked up her purse before leaving and then led him out the door, closing it behind her. After they left I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I closed my eyes, relieved they were gone, and adjusted my glasses. "He should know where the kid is, and if not, he should at least know someone who does."

The Mask looked up at me, arm wrapped tight around his waist. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "Why are you helping me?" My grip on my bow tightened as I thought. The real answer would be: 'I saw a man who needed help and helped him.' But I can't say that. If I did, he'd know who I was, that I was Dani Dylan. I learned the hard way, a while ago, that my two halves can never meet; can never be related in any way. I tried that and people got hurt, people I cared about.

While I'm the same person underneath, only one can show at a time. Dani Dylan isn't a hero; she can't _save_ anyone, not even herself. The reason why people got hurt is because she was trying to be, because she was sick of the double life, of lying to her family. So when she failed, 'Angel' returned to clean up the mess she caused. But with her came the lies, again, and the double life, putting on the costume when she should be working a case and stitching bullet holes when she should be babysitting.

Even now, I've let my two sides cross by bringing him here to Alison's house when I should be watching Chase right now. As it is, I have no idea how I'm supposed to explain that one. I was quiet a little too long, but I shifted, trying to make it look like I meant for that to happen.

I sighed and looked up at him. "Because I know you're one of the good ones. Even if I don't approve of some of your methods, you're still a human being who needs help, right now," I said. "I know I'm intruding on your 'territory' but I'm here to help, and whether that's you or Hell's Kitchen doesn't matter; a life is a life, and my plan is to help as many as possible."

Silence occupied the space between us again, for a minute, before he spoke. "We should take him to the roof." He pointed to the man on the floor. I nodded, knowing that was going to be the best place to get answers out of this guy. I looked at the guy on the floor and then back up at the Mask.

I held my bow out to him. "If you carry this, I'll take him," I suggested. He lifted his chin slightly, and then tilted his head to his right. A second later he took the bow from me. I walked over to the man and crouched down next to him, positioning my hands where I'd need them.

"Thank you," he said it from behind me, and almost as if it was a delayed reaction. But part of me knew it wasn't for offering to carrying the unconscious guy. I heaved the guy onto my shoulders and then headed for the door.


	4. On a Mission

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

The overwhelming smell of fresh brewed coffee assaulted my nostrils as the black liquid streamed into a customer's empty mug. "Thank you." The woman holding the mug smiled politely at me as the mug became full. I smiled back, giving a short nod. "Sure thing," I replied. I exhaled as I returned to the coffee machine, returning the pot to its place behind the counter. I moved back to my place along the counter top, where I'd left my wet rag, and continued wiping up in front of the stools.

"Ah, there you are." My eyes snapped left at the sound of a familiar voice. I tried to look as non-flustered as possible while taking a glance at Chase before smiling at Foggy. He walked over toward me from around the corner, followed by Karen. She smiled with a small wave, and I returned the smile with a light nod. Foggy stepped up to the counter in front of me. "Karen and I were going to head out, maybe do a pub crawl. I figured with your current situation maybe you'd like to join us?"

I opened my mouth to answer, and then paused, mouth hanging open for a moment. My eyes followed Karen as she sat in the booth a few seats away, sitting opposite Chase. "Alison?" Foggy raised an eyebrow. I quickly snapped back to him, trying to focus. "Yeah, um, I would but…" I lifted my hand in a gesture and Foggy twisted around to see. He spotted Chase, and then quickly scanned this side of the Diner, whipping around.

He looked back at me with a confused expression. "Where's Dani?"

"She couldn't make it after all—something about the case," I waved it away, wiping the counter with the rag.

"Well…Karen and I can take Chase back to your apartment and watch him for you," he offered. My mind lurched into overdrive and I stood upright, trying to think of some kind of excuse. All I could think of was what might be going on back at my apartment right now. "Oh, no- thank you for offering, Foggy! But, um, everything's good here- with us. It's super good, perfectly normal. We're fine. It's just really…good," I stammered through, awkwardly.

I inwardly face-palmed myself. This could not have gone worse. Nice job, Alison. A+. Foggy didn't seem to notice too much of my awkwardness. His expression was curious for a split second, and I stared at him, waiting for it to hit him—I'm lying. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. But after a second, he snapped back to a casual smile. "Okay then. Mind if I say 'hi' to the little guy before we head out?" he asked, throwing a thumb over his right shoulder.

I shook my head, forcing my lips to curve up into a semi normal-looking smile. "Sure. Go ahead." Foggy smiled and headed for Chase and Karen, squeezing into the booth beside Karen. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. You did it. It's over. I reopened my eyes and hurried back into my original objective—washing the counters.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"Got you good, didn't we?" Detective Foster, the man I knocked out with my bow in Alison's apartment, hung from the ladder of a water tower on the roof of the same building. The Mask stood in front of him, trying to get answers about where the boy is. But, I don't need a super whatever to know that the only thing he's accomplishing is ripping open his stitches.

"Who do you sell the children to?"

"I don't know. Whoever has the money."

"Where's the boy?"

"So, you find him. So, what? We'll take another," Foster said, enjoying this too much. "Kill me, somebody takes my pace."

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. "Wow. That doesn't sound familiar," I said. Mask had practically demanded he'd interrogate the guy and all he's doing is playing with us. Foster looked over at me. So far, he hasn't said anything to me, which is either good or bad. My guess is he has no idea who I am, and would prefer to keep it that way.

"But go ahead," he said to me, "keep hitting me." Then he looked at the Mask and said, "Let's see who drops first." He was ready to hit him again, when I uncrossed my arms and walked passed him. "My turn," I said. I walked to the stone wall surrounding the top of the roof and sat my bow on the ground before glancing over the edge at the ground below.

"What?" The Mask stepped back from the guy, holding his side, and breathing too heavy for comfort. I reached into my boot and pulled out my knife, then walked up to Detective Foster. I pulled myself up on the ladder just enough to reach the rope holding his hands and then cut it. I jumped down and Foster looked into my eyes.

"What are you going to do now, Sweetheart?" he grinned, revealing a mouth full of blood. I wanted to add to it, I really did, but instead I threw him over my shoulder. I walked past the Mask and glanced at him saying, "I'm taking a play out of your book." I walked to the edge and sat him on it.

I grabbed a fist full of the front of his suit and then pushed him back with the other hand. The only thing keeping him on this roof was my fist and his suit. I twisted back, facing the Mask. "Got any more questions?" I asked rhetorically. "'Cause he's getting heavy." I directed that at Foster, and it worked. He started screaming and freaking out.

Mask came over next to me and grabbed a fist of his suit as well. I could tell I was still holding him up by myself, so it had to be to scare him. "Where is he?" the Mask shook him. "Where is he?!" The man still didn't answer. He probably doesn't believe I'll let go. In fact, I don't even know if I'll let go. I thrust my pelvis into the brick wall, allowing my arm an extra six inches to extend over the edge.

"No!" Foster screamed as he jerked to a stop, thinking that was the moment he'd drop. "Better hurry, Foster. You're not a light guy," I said. And meant it. My left arm was shaking so bad it felt like an earthquake in my arm. With my right hand I gripped the lip of the brick wall for leverage.

"Underneath Troika restaurant," Foster blurted. I sighed with relief, knowing I could let him go. "Eleventh and forty-fourth." I held him a second longer and then pulled him up. I put his feet back on land and then released his suit. My fingers hurt from how tight I was holding the fabric. The Mask let go, too, and we both took a step back from him.

Foster started chuckling and I knew this wasn't over. "They'll be waiting for you," he taunted. "If you're lucky, they'll kill you before they start in on the boy." I closed my eyes, wishing I had the guts to do what I was thinking. A split second later, as if he read my mind, the Mask pushed him over the edge.

I felt like I should scream, be shocked in some way that he did it. But I wasn't, and I didn't. I had looked over the edge for a reason. I knew there was a dumpster down there, the same one I pulled the Mask out of. He might be in a coma or paralyzed, but he should still be alive.

Now, we were both panting. Him from pain, me from adrenaline. "He alive?" I asked between breaths. The Mask paused a second turned his head toward the dumpster down below. He cocked his head another way before replying, "Yeah." He pushed off the wall and then walked over to where we had the guy tied up. Just as I was wondering what he was doing, I had a total 'duh' moment.

"You're going after the kid," I stated. "Like that?" He picked the rope up off the floor and began wrapping it around his hands. I guess that's a yes. I picked up my bow and then walked up to him. "I hope you know you're not going alone."

"From what I saw the other night, I'll be fine."

I scoffed. "For your information, that was a very off night for me and I was recovering from a bad shoulder injury. And since tonight is _your_ off night, you'd be stupid if you didn't have me tag along. Of course, technically, you're already stupid for going at all."

"They took the kid because of me," he said. "I am going to get him back." He stared at me. After a second, I sighed and gestured my arm in the air. "Then, lead the way, Mask," I said. He didn't move. Then a light smile crossed his lips, and he was off.

About a half an hour later, we arrived at the address Foster gave us. We might have been here sooner, but we took a few much needed breaks, and moved slowly. He got us into the building pretty fast, wincing the whole way. With every painful step he takes, I can't help thinking that something will happen and I'll need to get him _and_ the boy out alone.

I have no idea how he's still standing, let alone about ready to take on however-many people. I let him lead the way through the building. I didn't ask how he knew where to go, I figured it had something to do with his hearing. When we got to the middle of a 'T' hallway, he stopped and held up his hand for me to do the same.

"There are three rooms ahead, the one at the end has the boy," he whispered. Inside I was relieved to hear that he was here and alive, but it's never that easy. "What's in the other two?" I asked.

"Four men in each room."

"Okay." I nodded. He looked back at me, almost surprised at how calmed I seemed, how the odds didn't scare me. But it wasn't that bad, right? 8 against 2, one who's badly injured and might go down with the first punch…? Yeah. Not that bad. I rolled my eyes. "You lead. Make some noise and I'll take out whoever I can from here before joining you." He nodded and then disappeared around the corner.

He walked slowly down the hall, his head moving oddly as he did. He got to the first door, on the left, and then placed his hand on the door. He stood there for a second like that, probably listening to whatever was going on inside. Then he grabbed the knob and threw the door open. I could hear fighting the second he walked into the room, along with glass shattering and few other weird sounds.

I pulled an arrow out of my quiver and slid it into place in my bow. I raised the bow, pointing it down the hall, ready to puncture the first person I see. About three seconds later, the door to the room the Mask had just gone in, was forced off its hinges and now sat at an angle across the hall with some guy sliding down it. The guy slid to the floor and didn't appear to be getting back up so I didn't bother wasting the arrow.

But, that was followed by someone I could shoot. A man from the other room on the right walked down the hall and didn't even look my way. I released my arrow, letting it fly into the man's left shoulder. I quickly reloaded and hit him again in the right thigh. He was already going down, but a computer tower came flying out of the room with no door and hit him in the head, finishing the job.

The Mask forced some guy out of the room, punching him as he went. I reloaded as a slight feeling of relief entered me. He quickly dropped the guy he'd been working on and moved onto the next. I looked past him at my next target. I aimed and then released the arrow. It whizzed past the Mask and into its target. The man jerked to the side and then hit the deck.

I quickly reloaded as a new man emerged from the same room. He brought a gun up as I raised my bow. He fired at the Mask, who used the guy he was punching to catch the bullet, as I let another arrow fly. The Mask quickly shot to the side, allowing my arrow to pass and meet its target. Another guy down.

I walked down the hall, closer to the action as the Mask got deeper into it. I fired a few more arrows, but the chance of hitting the Mask was too great. I was standing next to the door on the left, the unhinged door in front of me, when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I reached into my quiver, pulled out an arrow, and instantly drove it into the chest of the man. I punched him in the face with the same hand I was carrying my bow, then dropped him.

Another man was not too far behind him. I instinctively loaded my bow, jumping across the broken door as the man pulled out a gun. He fired two bullets. I hid behind the door post and then reached around it and fired mine. I heard his body and the gun drop. I went to move and then stopped when a searing pain in my abdomen started. I looked down and found a straight line, four inches long across my stomach. It's just a graze. I won't die, but it will need stitches.

I look up just in time to get punched across the face. I dropped my bow and was thrust to the right. I quickly bend my knees, place one hand in the center on the man's chest and then begin repeatedly punching him in the gut with the other. I pushed him across the hall, slammed him into the wall. I left his gut and then punched him in the face for good measure.

I released him and he slunk to the ground. Someone was charging me from behind. I spun, bringing my left arm up as a shield. With it, I caught his which was holding a knife and then jammed my right fist into his nose. I let go of him with the sound of his nose cracking, then brought up my left leg and planted it in his gut. He slammed into the wall behind him. I spun, connecting my right heel with his face. The impacted flung him to the right and onto the ground.

I glanced around and then dove for my bow. As I latched onto it, someone's arm wrapped around my waist. I spun in their grip, bringing my bow with as much force as possible. It slammed into the side of his head, blood spewed from his mouth and his grip loosened. I pushed him away, then loaded my bow and shot him in the thigh.

I took a quick second to take in my surroundings. The Mask was fighting three men, one of which had an arrow in his leg. Great. What am I supposed to do if they won't stay down? For some reason, everyone chose today to be a terminator. More men who were on the ground stirred and moaned. It's only a matter of time before they get back up too.

But, thankfully, everyone was starting to slow down. Jabs were becoming slower and made less of an impact. The Mask was pinned against the wall, two guys beating on him. I shot the one, once in the back and then again in the back of the knee. He dropped, giving the Mask a chance. He jumped off the wall and kept moving, kept throwing kicks and punches.

Some guy jumped off of the broken door and lunged at me. I quickly put two arrows in his chest, stepping to the side to miss him as he fell. But the guy behind him surprised me. His feet hit the floor as he pointed his gun at me. The Mask and his opponent came out of nowhere, wrestling their way in between us. They slammed each other into the wall. A man next to me grabbed my bow out of my hands and threw it.

I deflected his punch and then jabbed him in the throat. I then put my leg so far up between his legs I swear I'll have a bruise on my shin. I spun a full circle before planting my heel in his face. He slammed into the wall next to him head first. I turned my attention back to my original opponent, as the Mask flew into one of the rooms with some guys, crashing to the floor.

The man raised his gun again. I did a left-handed cartwheel toward him, my feet hitting the gun out of his hand. It clattered to the floor as I stood face to face with him. I pushed off the ground, thrusting myself back, into a back flip. My feet came up and crashed into the bottom of his chin. I stuck the landing and he hit the floor.

I looked around, preparing myself for another. But there were none. All of them where down and I think they planned on staying that way. Most of them groaned or couldn't get up. I stood next to the broken door, looking at all the bodies. Then I remembered why we're here. "Mask," I called. I walked foreword to the next room and looked in.

"Here," he said. He was on the floor, just getting to his hands and knees. I walked up to him and knelt down. We grabbed onto each other and then stood. I winced as I let go of him, realizing that back flip probably wasn't a good idea. I put my hand on the wound on my stomach. "You're bleeding."

"I'm fine. We need to get the boy and leave," I said. He stared at me a second, not moving, and then started walking toward the room where they're keeping the boy. While he was getting him, I looked around for my bow. A minute later, I found it down the hall, the string snapped. I sighed at it and then looked up and saw the Mask.

He was carrying the boy down the hall. He led the way and I fell in step behind him. We dropped the kid off at the nearest police station, and then got a few blocks away before I stopped him. "I'm afraid this is where we part," I said. "I'm sure if you went back to Alison's she'd fix you up again."

"What about you?"

"I've been taking care of myself for quite awhile now. I'll be okay." A few seconds of silence passed between us, nothing but the cars in the distance. "So… I guess I'll see you…around, someday." I kind of tossed my arms around searching for the words. It's too late and I'm in too much pain to think straight. I take a few steps backward and then turn around.

"What do I call you?" He asked. I stopped and smiled, thinking that the only answer I had was so stupid.

"Where I'm from," I faced him, "I've been called many things. But the most common is Angel."

"Angel," he said, almost testing it. He nodded. "See you around."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I plated a sliver of double fudge chocolate cake from the case and rounded the corner to the backside of the Diner. "Hey, sweetie," I said, sliding into the booth seat opposite Chase. Her perked up a little, but he looked bummed about something. My fingers pushed the cake across the table to just in front of him and put a fork on the table. "Talk to me. What's going on in that crazy head of yours?"

He sighed, eyes drooping. "Why was that man in our house?"

I stiffened, looking down. I figured he would ask—I _knew_ he would ask. It was only a matter of time. I inhaled. "Remember what I told you about Grandma? How she helped sick people?" I looked back up at him and he nodded a little. My fingers absentmindedly ran through his dark curls, brushing them partly to one side. "That's what I did. He was sick and he needed my help."

"You work for a newspaper," he pointed out.

"Yes. I do. But I learned a lot from your Grandma. She was an amazing woman when she wanted to be." His lips quirked to the left, his eye pensive, and he looked left to gaze out the window at the dark street. I rested my forearms on the table and partially sat back. After a moment, he turned back to me. "He was that guy—the man in the mask," he said, unsure.

"Where did you hear that name?" I was suddenly alert.

"Some kids were talking about it at school. Is he going to kill us?" I quickly glanced around. Thankfully this side of the Diner was mostly empty, just a few straggling customers here and there. They were mostly red eyes at this hour. That's what we call the night owls that wander into the Diner during the late shift. I turned back to Chase with a small exhale. "No, honey, he's not going to kill us," I assured, calmly. "I promise."

He nodded a little, still looking deep in thought, glancing at the table. I smiled lightly and tilted my head to see his eyes. "Aren't you hungry?" His eyes met mine and I could see the moment he remembered there was cake in front of him. His hand almost instantly emerged from beneath the table and his fingers grasped the metal fork beside the plate. I couldn't hide my bright smile as he began devouring his cake. But it got me thinking. Could I really trust my own words?


	5. Mr Dawson

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I moaned as I rolled onto my back, in bed. A sharp pain shot from my stomach with each breath. I flicked the blankets off of me and looked down. A red line had been drawn on my white shirt, overnight. I rolled my head to the side, finding more blood on the sheet next to me. I sighed as I grabbed my stomach and rolled out of bed.

My feet hit the floor and all my muscles screamed against it. It's been a long time since I had to do what I did last night. I've spent most of my time behind my bow, away from the punches and the need for kicking. I straightened and then headed for the bathroom. I pulled off my shirt and looked at my stomach in the mirror. A few of the butterfly bandages were gone. Probably in the bed somewhere.

My face was the worst, though. I only got hit once, but that's all it takes. My left cheek was puffy; closer to my cheek bone was dark purple. The whole thing took up two inches of my face. I couldn't help but grin when I thought what those guys' faces must look like, especially since I hit them with my bow.

I tore off the rest of my clothes and took a quick shower. I fixed my wounds, took a few pain killers, and dressed. I walked into my office, grabbing my cell phone off the desk as I walked through. I flipped the phone open as I continued through the main lobby room thing, and into the kitchen. One voice mail. I put the phone to me ear.

"Hey, Dani, it's Alison Fletcher. I was hoping you could pick Chase up at three-fifteen, after school. I'll be at work all day. I figure it's the least you could do after bailing on me last night." Ouch. Though, I guess I deserved that jab. I did 'leave' her alone and didn't give her a reason why. The message ended and I deleted it. Three-fifteen, huh?

I look up at the clock. Just before nine. I've got a lot of time to kill. I do a quick scan of the fridge and decide I'll pass on food. I go back to the bathroom and unbury my small amount of makeup. I put just enough on the bruise to turn the purple into blue. No way is it all going away. I sigh and leave the bathroom.

I sit down at my desk and look over my client list. No appointments today, but I have one client I need to give some bad news to. He'd asked me to see if his wife was cheating on him. Turns out she was…with his sister. I nearly threw up on the spot. Usually, I'd have the client come here for the results of my findings. But I have a feeling this one will be better in person.

I gather up his case file and all the photos I'd taken then slide them into my bag. I see the Fletcher file on the desk and stop. Their law firm is on the way. I could stop by and update them on the case. Help me waste a few more minutes, since there's not much to say. I sigh a grab the file, shove it into the bag.

I put the strap over my shoulder and then head for the door. I locked it behind me flipping the sign over to 'closed: please call to make an appointment'. I _really_ need someone to work the front desk. It doesn't take long to exit the building and then I'm on my way. I decide to walk, save the cab fare.

I take my time, stopping every ten minutes to make sure I don't rip anything open again. But, even at my rate I was at Nelson And Murdock before ten. I rounded the corner and saw Mr. Murdock up ahead, heading to his office's door. He got to the door, stopped and turned my way. "Don't worry, I'm not 'technically' following you," I said. "We just happen to be going to the same place." I walked up to him. "Dani Dylan."

"I remember you, Miss Dylan," he said. I couldn't help but notice the cut above his right eye. I thought about asking and then pushed it away, figuring it wasn't my place. "What brings you by?"

"I was hoping to update you guys on the Fletcher case, if you had a minute. That's literally all it'll take."

"I'm sure we can work that in." He smiled. I nodded, knowing he couldn't see it, and then turned the knob. I swung the door open and then stepped back. "You first," I said. "Since Foggy helped create this jungle, I have the feeling I could get lost." He chuckled and then walked in. My sarcasm was one of the things that made Foggy and I such good friends back in the day. I walked in behind him, closing the door.

Foggy's loud voice quickly welcomed me. "You have returned," he said. "I was afraid you'd run off again." He said it jokingly, but I knew there was truth behind it. Years ago I'd left without even leaving a note behind saying 'goodbye'. I was there one day and then gone the next. I guess at some point I should apologize for that. "Don't worry, Foggy. I'll be sticking around in Hell's Kitchen probably longer than you'd like," I said.

"Not possible."

"That I'd stay, or you'd get board of me?"

"Both," he quickly smiled. I smiled, suppressing a chuckle. I felt Matt walk up next to me, abandoning him stick on the other side of the room. "Okay. What happened to the two of you?" Matt and I glanced at each other as I grasped for a lie.

"Are you okay?" Karen's question seemed more directed at Matt, so I stayed quite. Apparently he thought so to, and said, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just wasn't paying attention last night. It's my fault." It was a quick and easy way to get them off his back. My guess is that he doesn't like pestering, or answering questions he doesn't want to.

Foggy chimed in. "You need a dog."

"A dog?" I said, like it was a ridiculous statement.

"I'm not getting a dog," Matt said.

"Okay, then," foggy turned to me. "Dani, what's your story? How'd you get that big shiner on your face?"

"I stayed out late, working a case, and…well, the short story is: it didn't go well," I said. And it was half true. After I got back to my apartment last night, I changed and headed back out. I had a lead on this guy's case I needed to run down. But, it's like my brother always said: 'the best lies are mostly true.'

"That's all? 'It didn't go well'?"

"Okay," I smiled, "I was at a strip club across town." He retracted like he'd seen something he shouldn't have. "Not for me!" Everyone laughed. "I'm serious! This guy needed me to prove his wife was cheating, classic tale."

"Which involved a strip club?" Karen asked.

"My versions do." The laughter continued. "But, I really wish they wouldn't. A lot of inappropriate things are, like, burned into my brain."

"Did you at least get what you were after?" Matt asked me.

"Yeah," I nodded, "I did."

"Well, speaking of cases, you said you had information on Miss Fletcher?"

"Yeah." I dug in my bag and pulled out my pathetic file. I passed it off to Foggy. "So, to start: I do believe that this guy's after her. The problem is finding him. I haven't stumbled upon a case like this in years. Every road is a dead one. All I could find was a social media account for a guy, I'm assuming, is our guy."

"That's all?" Foggy looked at the one page in the file.

"So, what does this mean?" Karen asked. That I'm going to be spending a lot of time on this case. That I'm not letting Chase out of my sight after school. That this might end with Angel stepping in. "That this was professionally done," I replied, "someone wanted him to disappear. And I believe, the name Alison knew him by was a fake one."

Foggy gave the file back and I stuffed it in my bag. "I just figured you guys would like to be kept in the loop since, if this goes the way I think it will, she'll need a lawyer." A knock on the door behind me stopped any reply that would've come. The three stared at each other, Karen and Foggy motionless.

"Someone's at the door," Matt said it as if speaking to kids who didn't know what they were doing. Foggy glanced at me. I put my hands up and slowly backed up behind Matt saying, "Not my circus, not my monkeys."

"Karen?" Matt smiled at my comment. She looked at him, dumbfounded for a second and then came to life and walked to the door. She opened the door, revealing a man dressed fancier than he should, holding a briefcase close to him. "Hi," he said. "Do you do walk-in's?" Just based off of how he said it, I wanted to slap him. This guy has something up his sleeve. But, at the same time…he seems familiar. Have I seen him before?

"Of course," Foggy jumped back into 'over cheery' mode, "that's just one of the many things we offer." I inwardly rolled my eyes. Matt looked like he'd entertain the thought, just as something unsettling grew in my stomach. I tuned Foggy out, searching my brain for any memory of this guy. And sure enough, I'd seen him before…and I was right to not like him.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I tried to remind myself I was Dani and couldn't just punch the guy. The room came back into focus as Foggy began leading the man into the next room. Karen followed, but Matt hung back, almost hesitating with me. He took a step forward and I grabbed his arm. He looked back at me. "I need to talk to you for second," my voice was a little shaky against my will, but I kept it low so they wouldn't hear.

Matt looked back at the others. "I'll be with you guys in a second." Foggy looked a little bummed, but Matt wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me into his office. He closed the door behind us. "What's wrong?" I didn't bother asking how he knew something was wrong, he could probably hear it in my voice.

"That's him. That's the guy who's been stalking Alison," I said. He went a little rigid, his jaw clenched. "Are you sure?" he asked. I thought back to that night, ten years ago. He was younger, had a different hair cut and wore street clothes. But it was him. I'm so sure of it. I'm sure if you looked at his face close enough, you'll see a bump in the bridge of his nose where I broke it on my knee. But I can't tell Matt this.

"One hundred percent. Alison showed me the only photo she had of him. He was younger, but it's him."

"Okay," Matt thought a second. "Leave here like we never had this discussion. I'll see what I can get from him and get back to you later." He was out the door before I could reply, walking like a man on a mission. I left a second after he did and headed for the door.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

You'd think after almost a decade of your life, you would learn a thing or two about a thing or two. You would be able to determine what the difference is between being aware and just plain old anxiety. Honestly, they both blend together so well in my mind that I can't tell the difference anymore. I mulled over my current predicament while I sipped my Latte, watching the floors tick away in the elevator. How could Dani ditch me like that? Right then?

The least she could have done was given me a better excuse. Or maybe call me back. The doors slid open and I hurried out and to the right, down the hall to the Bulletin's bull pin. As soon as my feet crossed the doorway lines, Ellison was on me. "Fletcher," he called, approaching quickly. I stopped and turned to him as he did. "Do you have the recovery piece? Is it lengthy?"

I set the second cup of coffee I held on the corner of the closest desk to free my hand, then plunged into my bag. "Three-thousand words," I answered, as the file emerged from the black hole I call a purse. I held the file of printed papers out to him and he snatched it, immediately opening it to eye-ball the story.

Then the file snapped shut. "Good. I want you working with Urich on the subway line story," he said, looking up at me. "Heads up—he's not too pleased with the decision—but it was necessary, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay." He turned on his heel and scurried off in the other direction. I sighed, picking up the second coffee, and then started for Ben's office. Well, it's not really _his_ office. It's the 'City' desk. But it might as well be his because no one else ever uses it. I had to hold the coffees weird, but I freed my hand enough to tap my knuckles on the closed door. There was a second of silence. Then a muffled, "Come in" came through.

I quickly opened the door, repositioning the coffees in my hands. As soon as I stepped into his office I knew something was up. I mean, besides the subway line story. I kept it to myself, though, walking up to his desk. Ben lifted his head from behind his desk with a light sigh, then tried for an easy smile. "Morning, Alison," he greeted, with a small nod.

"Good morning, Ben. I brought you this." I dangled the second coffee it front of him and he sighed in relief as he took it. He sat back in chair after taking a drink. "You're a life saver," he thanked. _More than you know, Ben_ , I thought. Memories of last night started filtering into the back of my mind and I quickly swallowed them, willing them to disappear. It didn't quite work. "So, I guess I'm working with you on the subway line article-?" I started, inhaling.

Ben sighed heavily in annoyance. "That waste of time?"

"Ellison said you weren't pleased," I smiled lightly.

"Yeah, well, I have better things to write about than some lightweight topic that doesn't even make a difference," he vented, on an exhale. He was quiet a moment, then he looked up at me. "I'm sorry, Alison. I'm just…stressed…at the moment."

"That's understandable. How's Doris?" I stepped back a little ways and sat in the tan sofa chair in the corner while Ben answered. "She's uh…she's doing fine, I suppose," he said, nodding, before changing the subject. "Ellison said we should take a poll for this subway article nightmare-"

"You want to hit the streets?" I finished, standing.

"Well, you're eager this morning," Ben noticed, standing as well. He pulled his jacket off the back of the desk chair and pulled it on, walking around to the front of his desk. I let out a breath. "I just need to keep moving," I lied. I held up my latte, still warm in my hands. "Third cup already. I'm practically buzzing with caffeine." Ben huffed a chuckle and led the way out of the office, holding the door for me.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I walked into my apartment office, my place of living and work, and to my desk. I sat by bag down next to the desk on the floor. I told the man about his wife, and he didn't take it well. I mean, would you? With his sister? I shook the thought from my head and pulled his check from my pocket. The things people will pay to know the truth.

I hear the door open and toss the check on the desk. I set out of my office and into the main lobby. I looked up at the man and froze in my tracks, a breath getting stuck somewhere in my throat. The man from the law firm, the one hunting Alison, stood twenty feet away from me. Why is he here? Does he know who I am?

"Hello, Miss Dylan," he said, in the same cheery voice he had at the law firm. "I wasn't expecting to see you twice in one day."

"Yeah, neither was I." I unfroze and walked up to the receptionist's desk. I sat. "What can I do for you, Mr…?"

"Well, you see, Miss Dylan," he sat across from me at the desk. He seemed to change thought mid sentence, "You are, indeed, the daughter of Keith Barton?" I froze, going rigid. How does he know that? "Good. You see, my employer has recently acquired the debts of someone your father barrowed a lot of money from." I closed my eyes, knowing where this was going.

"And you're here to collect," I stated, leaning back in my chair.

"Yes, well…your father seems to be…unreachable, at the moment."

"Let me stop you there. I know how this works. You threaten me with something, unless I give you the money." I've heard this broken record too many times. I feel like just handing money to random people on the street so that I don't have to have these conversations. "How much?"

He smiled. "I like you, Miss Dylan." Funny, considering our past. "I'll expect forty thousand by the end of the week. I'll be here on Saturday to pick it up."

"Forty thou-" I rubbed my hands over my face. "Fine. Fine. Saturday, you'll have your money." I crossed my arms. I really hope Matt got something on this guy. That way I can nail him to his cross.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I breathed in through my nose, inhaling the rugged scents of Hell's Kitchen. In particular, the coffee cart on the sidewalk in front of me. My grip tightened on the to-go cup in my hands as I tried to blink away the red obscuring my vision. The color—along with the memories it disturbed—swirled around my head in a whirlpool. I checked my cell phone for the time. Three o'clock. "Got somewhere to be?" Ben asked, walking to me from the coffee cart with a steaming to-go cup.

"Chase gets out at three-fifteen," I shook my head with a small smile.

"Ah," he drank from his coffee, standing a foot from me, looking at the street. Then he looked back at me. "How is the little tyke doing, anyway?"

"Oh, he's great. A little too good sometimes, I think." As if telepathically deciding it, Ben and I both started walking right, up the sidewalk. "Did you get that eye doctor hassle sorted out yet?" he inquired. Oh, right. I forgot I was supposed to call and set up an appointment with Dr. Ross today before the offices close. "I think I found someone," I sighed, shrugging a moment. "I still don't know if I can really afford it, though."

Ben chuckled humorlessly. "I know what you mean," he nodded, before taking a drink. He should. Just yesterday he was telling me how the insurance company was threatening to shut him off. You can't do much on a reporter's salary, medically speaking. Thankfully I work a second job. It's not much, but it helps. "Say, partner, you ready to mingle with the people?" I asked, somewhat humorously.

He sighed. "I don't know…how many votes for orange have we had already?"

"Fifty-two," I answered, looking down at my notepad. We were marking down the votes for each color for the poll, mostly so that the guys in Graphics could make an illustrated graph. "That many already, huh?" he asked, rhetorically. "What do you say we break for lunch, and then get back at it?"

"Sounds good."


	6. Secrets

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

The waitress just scampered off to the kitchen when I glanced at my phone. Three-twenty. Part of me wanted to trust that Dani would be there to get Chase, that she wouldn't stand me up a second time. But the rest of me—the part with the common sense—urged me to make sure. "Hey, Ben- do you mind if I make a quick call?" I asked, looking up. He was already looking at me, probably for longer than I guessed. His expression was expectant.

He nodded once and settled back into his side of the booth. I quickly picked up my cell phone and dialed in Chase's number. I gave him the phone for special emergencies or for moments like this, when I needed to get hold of him. It only took one ring for him to answer. "Mom?" he answered.

"Hey, honey. Are you still at school?" I asked, trying to outwardly seem calm. Frankly, I was anything but. The feeling of panic, the constricting of my chest—it only worsened when Chase answered, "Yep." My eye lids fell closed and I exhaled, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Okay. Chase, stay inside the school until someone comes to get you okay?" I told him. My voice was shaking now.

If Chase was there alone, he was like a sitting duck, completely unprotected. That _witch_ stood me up again. "Okay…is everything alright?" he asked, curiously.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I'll see you when I get home. I love you."

"I love you, too, mom." I hung up the phone and Ben sat forward in his seat, intrigued. "Alison, what's going on?" he asked, seriously. My fingers flew across the digital keypad until I'd typed in the number to Nelson and Murdock. I put the phone to my ear, looking up at Ben. "My sitter didn't show, and now Chase is at school— _by himself_ ," I explained, worried anger slipping into my tone.

Ben exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face before shaking his head. Three rings. Finally, Karen answered the phone. "Nelson and Murdock, this is Karen, how can I help you?"

"Karen, it's Alison. I need to speak to Foggy," I replied.

"Oh, okay. Here he is." There was a scuffling as she handed off the phone and I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. It's not Foggy's fault Dani didn't show. Dani is to blame if anything happens to him. "Hey, Alison. What's up?" Foggy asked.

"Where's Dani? Chase is still at school!" My body betrayed me, failing to convey my previous thoughts.

"What? Oh my- Alison, I'm so sorry. I'll send Karen to pick him up. He can hang out here at the office. He's going to be fine, I promise." I wish I could believe that. Buy into his blind faith. But my mom used to say, 'A mother always thinks twice: once for herself, and twice for her child'. "Thanks, Foggy," I exhaled, relaxing a bit in my seat.

"It's nothing. I'm just sorry this happened again. I'll see if I can track her down, shake some sense into her, okay?" he sounded gentle, sensitive to the issue.

"Okay. I'll be by around six," I informed.

"Got it. See you then." I hung up the phone and immediately buried my face in my crossed forearms on the table, slinking into the booth on a frustrated huff of air. Why couldn't I rely on someone to keep their word? Honestly, was it that hard to do what you promise? I lifted my head and sat upright, forcing myself to keep composure for more than a second.

Ben sighed lightly and turned to me from the window, watching me a second. "Do we need to take a detour?" he asked, genuinely.

"Oh, no…no, no, it's fine. I think," I sighed heavily, throwing my hands up. "Oh, I don't know! For the love of- why can't she just _show up_? How hard is it to drive to an elementary school and pick up a kid? She better have a really good reason for bailing on me twice or I'm finding a new PI."

"Sounds like you had a bad night," he pointed out.

"Yeah, you could say that." I laughed humorlessly at the choice of words. A bad night. I crossed my arms and settled into the booth. As soon as six rolls around, I'm going to that law firm and getting Chase, and then I'm going to really re-think who I put my trust with. I probably should have done that to start. Too late now.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

My eyes opened, the sounds around me slowly coming into focus. My face pressed against the floor of my lobby. From what I can tell, I'm lying on my stomach in the middle of the room. I blink away the blurriness and focus on what's lying a few feet from me: my glasses. Angel's glasses.

And with that thought, all the pain came crashing into me like a truck. I rolled over, trying to muffle my screams. My hands were coated in blood, my blood. I unzipped my blue leather jacket, grimacing the whole way. I pull it open and pull up the hem of my shirt. Not only is my stomach bleeding, but it's bleeding worse than it was when I first got it.

Great. I let me head roll back down to the ground. Anything capable of stopping the bleeding is in my bathroom. I sigh, thinking of the pain that's going to unleash upon me when I move. I bite my lip and quickly roll back onto my stomach and then straight onto my hands and knees. I scream through clenched lips, as I'm reminded that my shoulder was dislocated.

I roll it in its socket. I guess slamming it against the door post really did work. I'll remember that. I put my right hand on the coffee table next to me, then push heavily on it, using it to stand. Once I'm on my feet, I slightly stumble when I try to take the first step. I catch myself, then regret it. Sometimes it's less painful to just let yourself fall.

I curled my left arm around my waist, tight. I pull the wig off with my right hand and let it fall to the table. My dark hair falls to my shoulders, slightly covering my face. I take my first step to the bathroom when I hear the door's bell ding. I freeze. I didn't lock the door. Oh…this can't be happening. Not now.

I'm dressed half Angel, half Dani. Half vigilante, half PI. That, and I feel like my arm's the only thing keeping my guts inside me. I slowly turn around, rigid with pain. Foggy. I'm both relieved and frightened. He walks into the office staring at the ground, at the trail of blood I left. As the door swung farther open, I could see the bloody hand print smearing down the door. I left quite the mess. And Foggy found it.

His gaze works its way to me. Starting at my boots and then to my face. His face was expressing too many emotions to read. I huffed a breath, dropping my head. I'm not sure how much longer I can stand. I huff again, taking all my strength to pull it back up again. "Foggy…" it came out more of a whisper than I wanted it to.

My warning bells started going off in my head, telling me I needed to lie down, to get help. My adrenaline spiked, raising my heart rate and breathing. I turned and staggered through my office and to my bedroom. I stumbled the last few feet to the bed, my hand resting on the corner to keep me from falling. But that didn't help much.

My knees buckled and I went to the floor. I leaned my back into the side of the bed as Foggy walked in to the room. His expression changed from confusion to shock. I'm sure I'm white as a ghost from blood loss, but his face confirms it. He rushed down to me. "Dani?" he asked, knowing the answer. I looked up at him, my head starting to feel light headed. I don't know how much blood I lost, but it was too much. "What…?"

"I need a towel…from the bathroom," I pointed over the bed to its general vicinity, "and the…med bag." He rushed away, gathered the items and hurried back.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

The tally for orange versus indigo was now at sixty-to-fifty-nine. You wouldn't think so many people would even be interested in taking part in this stupid poll, but I've spoken to over a hundred people today already. After another coffee stop, Ben and I decided to call it quits for the day and head back to the Bulletin. It wasn't a bad idea—especially considering we had more than enough information for the stupid graph.

My feet were about ready to burst into flames when I finally dropped into my desk chair. I didn't have my own office or special desk space; I worked in a cubical that sometimes felt like a padded cell. But, at the moment, it felt safer than I'd felt outside. I leaned back in my seat and let my eyes fall closed. "Fletcher," I shot upright, my eyes snapping wide. "…everything okay?" Ellison stood at the entry to my cubical.

I sighed and readjusted my position, scooting the chair closer to the desk in front of me. "Yeah…long day. What's up?" I asked, turning to see him.

"I need the votes for the poll," he said, leaning on the cubical doorway. I nodded and quickly reached down into my purse for my notepad. It took me a minute with all the stuff in there but, I found it, and handed it off to him. "Thanks. And, um-" he went to leave but paused, turning back toward me. I raised an eyebrow. "You've been doing excellent work here, Alison. If you need to take a day off for personal reasons…do it, okay?"

I nodded slowly, a bit surprised. "Thanks…I will." He nodded once and disappeared from my sight. I dropped back against my chair with an exhale, then turned toward my computer. I clicked the power button and the dinosaur roared to life. It's screen became a brighter black and a loading bar popped up. This thing was practically archaic. I should've brought my laptop, but I was—as usual—running behind. I took a drink of my coffee while I waited.

As soon as it was booted up and waiting at the desktop, I opened Internet Explorer. The next project I had to do was research facts for my next article on the recovery efforts. Ever since the Battle of New York people have been trying to put the city back together, piece by miniscule piece. It's a group effort. Extremely costly, extremely time consuming.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I jolted awake, like someone hit me. I looked around my room. I was lying in my bed. Foggy sat near the end, Angel's blue glasses in his hands. He was staring down at them, deep in thought. "Is this why you left?" he said. A few seconds passed before he looked at me. I shook my head. "No. That was something else entirely," I croaked.

However long ago it was, he'd gotten me my med bag with just enough time for me to close the wound before passing out. He must have put me in the bed after that. His attention went back to the glasses, then he stood. "I cleaned the blood off the door, and locked it."

"Thank you, Foggy."

"Why? Why do this, why go outside the law?" he asked, and I knew he would. But I didn't want to answer. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Off and on, the last ten years."

" _Ten_ years?"

"I know how this sounds, and you probably think I'm crazy. I never intended for things to be like this, to run around the city wearing a costume," I said. "It started with me just…helping people when they needed it, when no one else was there for them. Like with Alison."

"You're the…you…" he couldn't pick which question to ask. His mind probably spun with a thousand of them. "Yes, I'm the one who saved Alison from her boyfriend ten years ago," I said. "She was the first. And after her, I couldn't keep myself from helping more. I didn't go out and find it; trouble's always come to me."

"So, what do you call _this_?" He flailed his arms at me, at the situation he'd walked in on. "Did you go looking for _this_?" I sighed, knowing the answer was yes. But he wouldn't understand without the full story, the reason why I'm in Hell's Kitchen again.

"Remember how I told you my dad gambled?" I asked. He nodded, a little confused by the topic change. "Well, it was worse than that. That's how he started, losing poker games. I don't know what he does with it, but he borrows money, a lot of money, from a lot of dangerous people. He's been doing it my whole life. The problem is…when they come to collect their money, he always leaves. Vanishes into thin air. My family was left with having to payback what he wouldn't. And because of it, we grew up very poor. We always saved big chunks of money, for the sole purpose of when Dad would mess up again."

"Wow," Foggy said under his breath. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I carefully propped myself up in the bed, so I could lean against the head board. "It wasn't your mess to worry about," I said. "But, that's how this happened. To me, I mean. That guy who showed up at your law firm?"

"Yeah. Matt told me what you said to him. That guy did this?"

I nodded, then corrected, "Well, not him personally. But, he came by my office today. He told me my dad was in debt to his boss and I have to get him his money by the end of the week. After he left I followed him. I didn't see who beat me up, I didn't see them coming, but I'm sure they were working for him. As the evidence shows, I barely made it back here."

"So, I was right. The reason why you didn't pick up Chase _was_ because that guy hurt you," Foggy said. I cringed. I forgot about Chase. This is the second time I've bailed on Alison, in twenty four hours. "Where's Chase, now?" I asked, moving to get out of the bed.

"Karen picked him up. He's at the law firm. What are you doing?"

"I need to watch Chase, try and fix this mess before more people find out who I am." I stood, wobbling a second. My bottom half was still dressed in my costume. I looked at Foggy with a regretful expression. "Foggy…I need you to please not tell anyone what happened here, today." He sighed, knowing at some point I'd ask him this.

"You know… you explained why today happened and how you started out… but, why come back to Hell's Kitchen? Why wear a costume and play hero in the streets?"

"Five words, Foggy: the battle of New York." I walked to my dresser and dug out a shirt. "Yeah, I saw Andy's name on the list of deceased," Foggy said, as I slid on my shirt. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," I ruefully sighed, "so am I. But, on that day, when so many people died, I realized that 'the powers that be'"- I used air quotes- "and 'the law'…weren't enough. They couldn't prevent what happened and they took forever to fix it. That's why I wear that costume, that's why I go out looking for people who need help, because I am done taking orders, I'm done standing on the sidelines."

"Who were you taking orders from?" Foggy turned around as I pulled a pair of jeans out of the drawer. I peeled off my black tights and then slipped into the jeans. "I used to work for a top secret government organization that was dedicated to protecting this world from the things normal people couldn't," I said, walking past him and to the lobby. "Like what happened in New York."

"Do these guys have a name?"

"Yeah. One I'm not 'allowed' to tell a civilian. Apparently, once an agent, always an agent."

"So, what happened? Your boss wouldn't let you save Andy?"

I shook my head. "He wouldn't let me save _anyone_. That day I swore to myself I'd never let that happen again. So, I took what I learned there and applied it to what I'm doing now." He stopped asking questions, contemplating what I'd told him. I picked up the rug that was covered in a pool of my blood, crumbled it up and stuffed it in the trash can. Then, I grabbed the wig off the table as I walked past it and back to my room.

I slipped my feet into some shoes and then grabbed a coat off the rack. I need to get Chase and try to make things right with Alison. I've got to find a way to make this up to her. Foggy met me in my office. He stood in the doorway as I slipped on my coat. "You were there, at Karen's apartment, when those guys tried to kill her," he said, working things out in his head. "You've been working with that guy in the black mask."

"Only twice," I corrected. "I don't know if it'll be more than that. He's not my side kick, if that's where you're going with this."

"Do you know who he is?"

"No. And he doesn't know who I am, either. Come on. I'll walk you back to your law firm and grab Chase."

"No, I'll get Chase." The idea of lying to his friends was already getting to him. "Foggy, I'm sorry you found out like you did," I said, "and I'm even sorrier that you can't tell anyone. I know honesty is a big thing for you, and I respect that, but…sometimes…some things are better kept secret." I turn and walk away.

"Is that how you justify doing this everyday of your life?" His words caused me to stop. "Because it's 'better kept secret'?"

"No. I'm doing this for my brother, for Andy," I turn and face him. "Foggy, you can't open the story of my life and just go to page 935 and think you know me. I'm doing this to give people hope that there's someone out there looking out for them. The Mask lives in the darkness of night, a shadow to be feared by those who do wrong. I'm not _him_ , Foggy. I let people see me, day or night, helping no matter the personal cost. To them, I'm an angel who saves them in their darkest hour. If you really want to steal that hope away from them, Foggy, then go ahead, blast my name all over the front page. You and I both know a good reporter who could drum it up."

I know that was harsh and I shouldn't be giving him this ultimatum. But I need to know my secret will be safe. He scowled and then shook his head. "Okay," he said. "But this is the only time I cover for you, the only time I lie to my friends for you. After this I don't even want to talk about all of this. I want to pretend like this never happened, like you _aren't_ that vigilante."

I nodded. "Thank you, Foggy." He waved it away as he walked past me, an annoyed look on his face. He walked to the door and opened it. "I'll get Chase and take him back to his place," he said. "You can meet him there." Then he turned and left.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

At six o'clock, I headed home. Never did I feel more relieved than when I walked in the front door. My eyes immediately saw Dani sitting on my couch, hunched over, and looking at papers on my coffee table. The sound of feet in the hallway filled my ears. "Mom!" Chase slammed into my middle, latching onto me tightly.

"Hey, honey," I dropped to my knees to get level with him and hugged his small form as tightly as I could. A wave of relief washed over me at having him back in my arms, safe. "How was school?"

He whipped back. "I got an eighty-six on my Science quiz!" he beamed, with a bright smile.

"A _B_? That's awesome! I'm so proud of you," I smiled back, brighter than I have in weeks. "Are you hungry? I brought lasagna from Luigi's." I held up the brown paper bag I'd dropped next to me, and I swear his smile went from zero to sixty in point five seconds. He threw his fist in the air and snatched the bag out of my hands. He bolted to the dining room table by the kitchen, ditching the bag there, then sped into the kitchen.

Next I heard plates clattering and drawers opening. After all that's happened recently, I couldn't help laughing a little. Then I glanced at the living room. Dani was still in the same position as I last saw her. I got to my feet and slowly made my way to stand in front of the coffee table. "So, you decided to show up, huh?" I asked, rhetorically.

She looked up at me with a light breath of air. The lines of her face crinkled and bent in a grimace as she pushed herself up to stand, her arm tightly around her middle. Suddenly my anger and annoyance drained away and all I felt was concern. "Dani, what happened to you? Are you okay?" I asked, quickly.

"I'm really sorry I didn't-"

"Yes, I know- what did you do, fall in a meat grinder?" My eyes scanned her face in horror. She momentarily closed her eyes in a sigh, then she looked at me again. "I'm fine, Alison. I had a lead on your case, I thought I had time, but it ran a little over," she replied, gesturing down at her body during the last bit.

"Did Steve do this to you?" I asked, anger boiling in my veins at the thought.

She quickly shook her head. "No, no-" she exhaled. "I don't even know, okay? The point is, I'm really sorry, and I'm here now. I promise I won't leave Chase tonight." Clattering and tinkling caught my attention, before a booming, "MOM! LASAGNA!" echoed from behind me. Dani immediately started chuckling, looking over my shoulder. I closed my eyes a second. "Do I wanna look?" I asked.

I opened my right eye lid to a slit to see Dani, and she shook her head, laughing harder. I sighed, opening my eyes all the way. "Well, would you like to eat what's left of diner with us?" I asked, feeling the urge to laugh myself. Dani took a few deep breaths to calm herself, then started nodding. "I'd love to."


	7. A Deal with the Devil

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

Mr. Fancypants walked into my office, here to collect his boss's money. He adjusted his glasses. I wanted to slap that smirk off his face. He thinks he's getting away with something, but I assure you his punishment will come. "Well?" He sat down at the desk in the lobby, me sitting on the other side. "Were you able to acquire sufficient funds?"

"Yes." I stood and then picked up the two large duffel bags behind the desk. I walked around to him, half tossing them to the ground at his feet. He looked oddly down at the bags before him, then up at me. He reached down and unzipped one of them, revealing one-dollar bills. "I figured quarters were too heavy to lug back to… _wherever_ your boss is."

He zipped the bag, a slight smirk on his face as he sat back up. "Well, enjoy," I said in a perky, very fake, happy voice. "I'll look forward to doing business with you next time."

"I'm afraid this ends our business, Miss Dylan."

I let all emotion fall from my face, my voice going serious. "I'm afraid it's not. I might be done with 'your boss'"-using air quotes, sure to overdo it- "but I'm far from done with you, Mr. Dawson." His face dropped faster than I thought it could, losing all color and emotion. I know that's only a fake name, but clearly, I wasn't supposed to know it. And that scares him…so it pleases me.

"You see," I continued, sitting up straighter, placing my intertwined hands on the desk, mocking his voice, " _my_ employer has asked me to find the man whose been threatening her. Now, I don't know about you… but I'm looking right at him." He adjusted in his seat, in a way I've seen too many times. "Now, come on. This is a civil conversation, no need for the metal," I shook my head. "But, I do feel obligated to tell you"- I leaned in closer, over the desk- "…if I don't make a certain phone call, you'll have two lawyers in places you didn't know you had. And from what I hear, that would be _very_ bad for _your_ employer, would it not?"

I sat back in my chair, crossing my legs. "What do you want?" he mumbled. I smiled, reveling in making him squirm.

"I want you to leave Miss Fletcher and her son alone. Like, forever. Yeah. That sounds right," I said. "And in doing so, I'll stop looking into you. Pretend like this never happened. I'll make sure _my employer_ doesn't press any legal charges for emotional distress, or any other thing I can think of." I opened the folder on the desk in front of me, then spun it around to face him. I pulled a pen out of the holder and slapped it down on top of the open folder.

"What's this?"

"Our agreement. Sign or you will see jail time. That's a promise," I said. He picked up the pen. "This also states that, if any harm should come to _me_ after this conversation, I'll know who to blame. Even if the harm was caused by myself." He raised the pen to sign. I quickly put my hand across the page, "Your real name." He nodded and I removed my hand.

He signed the page and then stood, picking up the two bags. "Good day, Miss Dylan."

I stood and adjusted my jacket. "I just hope you can keep your word. It'd be a sham if you couldn't." He turned back and looked at me. "I know I will. And _that_ is a promise."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My forefinger and thumb rubbed the bridge of my nose. I knew Foggy was pacing even though my eyes were closed—I could _feel_ the cool wind of a draft. Dani was running late. She was supposed to be here, to let us know she was still alive, at least ten minutes ago. All of us were a little on edge. Karen and Mr. Murdock stayed quiet, but it was obvious both were nervous. "What if she didn't make it?" Foggy started, worried. "What if she made it, but got taken out on the way here? What if-"

My eyes snapped open. "Foggy!"

"…sorry," he sighed heavily. "I'm just _freaking_ out."

"We're all freaked out, Foggy," Mr. Murdock said, sounding like he meant to say ' _I'm_ freaked out'.

"Shouldn't she be back by now?" Karen asked, glancing between all of us. We stayed in the main room of Nelson and Murdock, mostly. Yes. Dani should be back by now. Where was she? Did she take a detour through Neverland? Did Steve get to her? My heart lurched into my throat and Karen startled hard, hoping a little, as the door swung open. Dani stood in the doorway, untouched.

No one moved—no one could. It was a collective pause. Then a smirk crested her lips and her arms shot out at her sides. "Guess who's not dead?" she said, sarcastically. I could almost feel the moment everyone in the room sighed in relief. Foggy rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her middle, lifting her slightly in his hug. "Whoa, easy! I'm only a couple minutes over time," she said, as he put her down.

"Are you kidding? TEN MINUTES, Dani," he said, over punctuating.

"Oh…yeah, that wasn't planned," she said, looking down.

"What took you so long?" I asked.

"I had to lift the guy's finger prints off the knob before I could leave," she said, exhaustedly.

"Well, next time call. You had all of us worried," Foggy spoke seriously, hooking an arm around her shoulders protectively. "Besides, I thought the guy would be cheesed because you payed him in dollar bills." My eyes shot wide and Karen let out a surprised chuckle. She payed him in _dollar bills_? Is she insane? Well, maybe. "If you don't mind me asking, how much did you give him?" Mr. Murdock inquired, cautiously.

"Forty thousand," Dani replied, simply. I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. My mind tried picturing forty thousand dollars in ones. Just when I thought Karen's eyes couldn't get any wider, they increased by at least half an inch. Mr. Murdock looked like if he were drinking something, it'd be all over the floor. "Forty _thousand_ dollars?" Karen asked, in disbelief.

"Yep," Dani nodded.

"In _ones_?" I gaped.

"Yep," Dani nodded again.

"And he just happened to be perfectly fine with you paying him forty thousand dollars in one dollar bills and, I'm assuming, signed the agreement that you typed up _and_ let you walk away with your life?" Mr. Murdock pointed out, heavy skepticism in his tone. The air suddenly became thick, all light-hearted intentions dissipated. Foggy looked to be suddenly uncomfortable shoved against Dani's side—practically stuck in the middle.

"That's why I spent so much time lifting the finger prints off the doorknob. I've dealt with organized crime like this before. I knew the second he signed that agreement, that it basically turned into a two-week peace treaty," Dani rebuttled, mildly defensive. "That contract bought us some time, but the problem is far from being solved."

"But why risk it? Why give him the forty thousand in dollar bills and then black mail him into signing your 'peace treaty', putting your own life at risk?" Mr. Murdock questioned, also defensive.

"My life was already in danger _because_ I had to give him the money, so I figured I'd just try to buy some more time to try and figure out what I'm dealing with," Dani defended, seeming slightly more agitated.

"And the good news is-" Foggy jumped into action, beaming. "-everything turned out okay! He signed the deal, you came back in one piece—it's all good." Mr. Murdock didn't seem too convinced of Foggy's words. But the tension was starting to settle down a little. As if getting the cue from Foggy, Karen snapped to attention with a smile that said she was fighting the awkwardness.

"Ah, we have to celebrate," Karen said, bubbling.

"Sorry, but I have to be at work in five minutes," I apologized.

Karen drooped. "Then Josie's, tonight," Mr. Murdock suggested. "First round's on me." Foggy smiled and threw his index finger in Mr. Murdock's direction, looking cheesy. "That's my man!" Foggy said, causing Karen to laugh. Mr. Murdock smiled a little. It was the first time I'd seen the man smile genuinely. It was nice. "I have to go or I'll be late," I announced, readjusting the purse strap on my shoulder. "You're watching Chase, right?"

Dani nodded adamantly. "Absolutely." I nodded back with a smile in thanks and started for the door. "Uh, hey, Alison," I stopped at the sound of Mr. Murdock's voice. I turned, raising an eyebrow. "Have a good day at work." It surprised me a little bit. But it was nice of him, so I nodded, though he couldn't see it. "Thanks. You, too," I smiled, before turning and heading out the door.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

If Alison ever found out I've been leaving him alone for short periods of time like this, she'd have my hide and probably a few other body parts that I hold dear and near. I hung up my coat as I walked through my office and to my room. Chase was sitting on the edge of my bed, glued to the same video game he was when I left. "I'm back, time to put it away."

"Five more minutes," he begged, eyes not leaving the screen. Sometimes this kid makes me glad I _don't_ have children. "Hey, I kept up my end," I said, "time for you to keep up yours. Nobody likes a man who goes back on his word." He sighed and then shut off the game, grumbling: "I guess."

The running deal between us is that he can play video games until I get back, but he has to agree to not tell his mom I left. So far, it's worked. But, now that I'm flat broke, I don't know what I'm going to do when the electricity gets shut off. That forty grand was literally _all_ I had. And even with that, I still had to barrow five thousand from my cousin.

I turn and go to my desk, checking if the facial recognition software was done. Before I quit my 'top secret government job', I was sure to take a few things. And by take I, of course, mean steal. Like, my very high tech facial recognition software, amazing fingerprint scanner, and a satellite. Okay. The satellite is still in space. But I stole it's access codes. I use it for the little things, like hacking into police and FBI severs without getting caught.

Of course, even if someone could trace the signal, it'd go back to my old boss. And though he might know it was me, he won't do anything about it because of the way we left things. The loading bar is at ninety percent and moving fast. I saw Chase walk past out of the corner of my eye. "Homework."

"It's Saturday," he said like I forgot. He turned on his heel, whirling around and slamming his elbows into my desk, chin pressed firmly against his hands. My eyes flick up to him from the screen, which just reached ninety-nine. "You gonna catch the guy who's been freaking Mom out?" I nodded. "Then what's taking so long?"

I wanted to slap his ignorant face but my computer stopped me. It beeped, telling me the facial recognition had finished. "It's a very slow process," I mumbled. "Go alphabetize the box of crayons." I shooed him away with my hand. He rolled his eyes and left the room. My attention quickly turned to the computer.

The picture I'd captured of 'Mr. Dawson' from this morning was displayed on the screen next to a new name. "Wesley Owen Welch," I whispered. Now, are you the real man or another fake? Steve Dawson was under that name, listed as a known alias. But, that still doesn't answer the question: why'd he need to change his name in the first place?

I run his name through the FBI database and don't get any matches, not even for Dawson. I was, though, able to dig up the old police report from when he attacked Alison ten years ago. But, once again, that's the only case of his name, any of them, being used publically.

But, what if he wasn't a public person? He wouldn't be the first guy I've run into who seemed to have appeared out of thin air; operating in plain sight who no one knowing. Unfortunately, my dad didn't do business directly with this guy or else I could just find my dad and have him lead me back to the guy. My ex boss might have some insight, but I'm not braking our 'non speaking' terms.

But, in order to be 'employed' you have to have existed before you disappeared. Otherwise, how did his boss find him? From what I heard, the company he told Nelson and Murdock he worked for was a dead end. So finding the boss isn't going to work. But, Dawson truly seemed afraid of what I might say or do if he didn't sign the deal. What if his boss doesn't know who he is?

If that's the case, then Dawson would be the only one who knows he has a son; part of the reason why he wanted it swept under the rug. Alison said he wanted custody of Chase. Why get custody of a kid you've kept a secret from your work life for ten years, even going through the trouble of changing your name multiple times?

What if he's not after custody of the boy… what if he wants what comes after? What if making Chase disappear is the final piece to making _himself_ disappear?

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My fingers were having troubles keeping up with my mind. It was racing, going a thousand miles an hour. Mostly with thoughts of a man I swore I'd never speak the name of—not after what happened ten years ago. I doubted he'd keep his word. But, if Dani was right, I had at least two weeks. I could hold on and try to just live my life without feeling pressured. That was the goal. But what happens when we reach the deadline?

A throat clearing caught my attention, and I glanced up. Karen smiled at me from the doorway to my cubical. I smiled back and turned in my chair to see her. "Hi, Karen. What brings you to the Bulletin?" I asked, standing.

"Well, I, uh...I have some information I want to get out to the public but I- I don't know how to go about it," she said, her voice shaking a bit. Her behavior was a bit odd, and I tried to shrug it off, but it just felt weird. I nodded slowly. "Okay. What kind of information?" I inquired, trying to be discreet. I glanced over the edges of the cubical walls to make sure no one was listening.

Karen inhaled deeply. "It's about the Union Allied Construction article," she started. I tensed, pausing a second. "There's more than what was in the paper—a _lot_ more." I nodded and took her hand, leading her out of the cubical and toward the Bull Pin. "I know just the man for this," I tossed the words over my shoulder as we walked.

I pulled her up behind me at the door to Ben's office. I listened for a second, made sure it was quiet, then rapped my knuckles on the door. A muffled, "Yeah," came through and I opened the door. Karen seemed hesitant to follow in behind me, but I gave her a reassuring look. I pulled her into the office. "Ben, this is Karen Page," I introduced. "Karen this is Ben Urich. She has something on the _Union Allied_ story."

Ben's features instantly were focused, and he stood up from his desk. He quickly walked around to the front of the desk, stopping a foot from us. "What kind of something?" he asked, intrigued. Karen stepped up more next to me than behind me. "There's more to the story," she announced.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

Foggy and I ordered a couple of beers and then sat down. He'd gotten to Josie's about thirty seconds after I did. "So, how's it going with the kid?" he asked. Small talk has never been my thing, but this I can role with it. "Well," I sigh. "He'll have a job with his name on his shirt." Foggy quickly covered his mouth, trying to prevent a fountain of yellow from spewing.

"I told you to be nice to the kid," Sarcasm lacing his voice. I rolled my eyes and took a swig of my beer. "Any luck on the case?"

"Come on, Nelson. You didn't drag me down here just to talk about work."

"I know," he grinned. But not a normal grin, more like what you'd get from a two year old. Thankfully, Karen and Alison showed up a minute later. I wasn't sure what else to say to Foggy. He and I haven't really spoken since he found out about my other half. I'm afraid if I'd opened my mouth any more to him, I'd end up saying something to him about it.

We greeted them as they sat down. Karen started looking around. "Is Matt not here yet?" Foggy replied with something that probably meant 'no', but I tuned him out. I forgot that this shindig included him. Might be a little weird since we had that argument earlier. But, hey. If I pretend like it never happened, eventually it'll just come back and slap me in the face.

I always love my options. But, today shouldn't come up…besides the fact that today is why we're here. "I'm sure he'll be here soon," Alison said, trying to encourage Karen. "In the mean time," Foggy stood abruptly and overly excited, "shots!" I groaned. "What? We're all consenting adults."

"Yeah, I'd like proof _you're_ a 'consenting adult'"- I used air quotes- "before shootin' back anything that comes out of those grubby hands." He smiled and the others laughed. Foggy threw his hands up in the air like he'd won the lottery and then hollered: "Shots all around!" before disappearing.

I looked at Alison and Karen, still smiling at Foggy's outburst. "What have you two been up to?" I thrust my chin in their direction. Karen's face instantly says 'I just saw her naked in the shower' before turning into a 'I need to lie and cover my own butt' kind of face. "Well… I, uh…" she stammered. "You know? Work stuff…at the… law firm. Papers and stuff."

Alison's face told me they were both hiding something, but I decided to drop it. How much trouble could they get into anyway? Foggy returns with shots as Alison opened her mouth to reply. But she took Foggy's interruption as an excuse not to reply. Foggy slams the shot glasses down, spilling some of the liquid. "Tonight, we celebrate!" He exclaimed. Matt walked up to the table, causing Foggy's smiling to grow even wider.

"How long have you guy's been waiting?" Matt asked rhetorically, smiling at Foggy's words. I'm sure he's asking 'how much has Foggy had to drink?' I'm starting to wonder the same thing. Foggy wrapped his arm around Matt and pulled him close. "There you are!" Foggy said, thrusting a shot glass into Matt's hand.

"Just finish your speech already," I said, grabbing a shot. Foggy lifts a shot glass into the air and says, "Tonight is to celebrate…the return of a great hero." Everyone starts to chuckle. I do too, but am secretly wondering if he's about to blow my cover. How much _has_ he had to drink? As I'm entering 'fight or flight' mode, he continues his speech. "Some people call her Dani. Others call her late. But, most of all _, I_ call her a friend. And I'm glad she survived today's _stupid_ plan. So… to friends!"

Foggy downs his shot, about to swallow the glass. By now, we're all cracking up. I get off my high horse, kicking myself for thinking he'd spew my secret, and then down the shot with the others. "Another round!" Foggy says.

"No!" I slide my glass across the table. "I've had enough shot's, thank you."

"Yeah, I've got work tomorrow," Alison agrees.

"But, seriously, Foggy, thank you for making a big deal out of nothing," I said.

"What!?" He detached himself from Matt and then came over to me. "You've been working really hard on this case. And, as I've said, as stupid as that was, it was also awesome." I sighed at his enthusiasm. Then, I glanced around, hoping someone would change the subject. But, no one did, so I figured I would.

"Yeah," I said. "But, I do feel like I owe you guys an apologue." The others looked at me weird. "I should've called sooner and told you I was okay. I didn't expect you guys to be so concerned about me, you know? I'm not used to that." I was starting to get sympathetic looks from Alison and Karen, so I quickly changed my mood. "But, now that I know…. I promise, it won't happen again."

Foggy took the hint I wanted to change the subject, and straightened, becoming very serious and solemn. "Well. I'm going to hold you to that, Dylan." He slapped me on the shoulder as I smiled. Then his mood changed, "I'm getting a round of beer." He vanished. I wasn't even half done with my first one.

The air between us was quiet. I think Foggy's still kind of the only thing holding me to this group. Normally, I'd think that was good. That it was for the better. But, my plan is to stay here, in Hell's Kitchen. I don't need to run, no one's bossing me around, if my father's mistakes try to get me again, I won't run. I'll face it like I did this time. I'm here to stay.

"So," Karen said, almost fishing. Her gaze quickly fell on me. "Today, at the law firm, you said you 'had to' give him the money." I knew her words were directed at me, though she didn't say it. "Why?" I sighed and then took another drink. She almost shriveled up like she knew she'd asked the wrong question.

Foggy returned and passed out beers before sitting. I sat up and leaned into the table. "Well," I started, and then paused. The only way to tell make friends is to be honest, right? "My dad has a habit of getting into the wrong crowd and then letting his family pay for it." Silence filled the room.

Foggy was shocked, not have hearing the question. Karen and Alison froze, both looking at me. Karen looked like she hadn't expected that answer. Matt seemed to tighten his grip on his beer, as his jaw clenched. I took another drink, slightly bobbing my head as I sat the bottle down. "Yeah," I sighed ruefully. "That's why I don't lead with that."

"I didn't-"

"No, it's okay, Karen. I should've told you guys what that was about from the beginning." I brushed it off like it was nothing… but, it's never nothing. No one wants to explain how their father's a failure and how they've been suffering because of it. "But, I gave him the cash because- surprise – somewhere, my dad messed up again… and that was me paying for it."

"Which means you _are_ done with that guy, _right_?" Foggy asked, wanting me to say 'yes'. I nodded. "Until the next time," I said. "But, hopefully that won't be for awhile. Otherwise they'll be beating something out of me I don't have." I probably shouldn't have said that last part out loud. Matt opened his mouth, when my phone ringing cut him off. I apologized and then dug out the phone, checking the screen.

"Sorry, I need to take this." I answered the phone, pressing it to my ear. "Dani…" the voice said. It's Marry, my sister-in-law. Any call from her is a _must_ take. "I need your help. My land lord is threatening to kick me out." I pulled a pad and a pen out of my left pocket and set it on the table. I click the pen in my left hand.

"Okay. Give me his name and phone number and I'll see what I can do." She rattled it off as I wrote it down. She thanked me and then hung up. I put the phone back into my pocket and then reached for the note pad. "I thought you were right handed?" Foggy asked, confused.

I cringed, realizing I'd have to tell them that story too. "Yeah, I'm both, actually."

"Why? Isn't that really hard?" Alison asked. I nodded, "At first. But… it wasn't by choice." I spoke hesitantly.

"What do you mean?"

"Someone your father owed money to," Matt said, "came to collect and you didn't have it." He didn't say it like he'd just figured it out, more like… he'd guessed where this sad story had ended and wished he was wrong. The others finally got it, and didn't look like they knew what to say. I'm not sure _I_ know what to say.

I never told anyone but immediate family. And I'm running out of that. I let out the breath I was holding. Having people say it out loud makes it too real. "Yeah," I said. "That's the nice way of putting it." I glanced around at everyone and then tried to change the mood. "Now… I don't think we came here to discuss all of Dani's secretes," I joked.

Foggy shot straight up in his chair, "No, we did not!" he said, cheerfully. I gave him a thankful look as I finished off my beer. Karen and Alison seemed to easy out of the tight wad they'd gotten stuck in, slowly sipping their drinks. Matt, however, didn't move for at least two minutes after a new conversation had begun between Foggy and Alison.

I sat across from him, staring. Wishing I could find out what he was thinking. He suddenly unfroze, taking a drink as I reached for my second. He still seemed stiff, but tried not to act like it. I'd missed what Foggy said, but whatever it was caused Alison to blush. Was he flirting with my client?

I made a mental note to tease him about it later. I casually glanced around the room, seeing the same guy sitting at the bar. He'd been here before I got here, but I forgot in amongst the discussion to watch him. I'm 98% sure he's the guy my new client's hired me to find. But, I can't stare too long without drawing attention.

"I'm serious," Foggy said. "He's a great kid. I don't know why that guy _wouldn't_ want to be his father. I mean, there are much more legal ways to go about it-"

"I think we get it, Foggy," Matt said.

"I'm still trying to figure out where this discussion was going," Alison confessed, pushing her empty bottle away.

"With you two," Karen said, "on a date."

"What?" Foggy played dumb. "That's not where I was-" -he looked at Alison- "I mean, it could, I guess, if you're okay with that." He shrugged his shoulders. I rolled my eyes and Karen laughed. I put my hand on Alison's shoulder and said, "Normally, I wouldn't suggest making these kinds of choices with alcohol in your system. But, this time…no one's going to die if you say yes."

"'This time'?" Matt asked, sarcastically. "Where do you spend all your time?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," I replied, staring into his glasses. I took a drink.

Alison sighed, frustrated she couldn't think. "Sure, why not?" she said.

"Well…"

"Dylan, don't start," Foggy mock protested, pointing a figure my way.

"After considering how long it took you to answer," I sucked in air between clenched teeth, "I'm afraid you missed your chance." Foggy smacked me on the arm. I laughed and then pushed aside my empty bottle. "Sorry, guys, but I need to leave. Duty calls."

I stood and then pushed in my chair. Foggy stood and half hugged me. I said goodbye to the others and then headed for the door. On my way out, I walked too close to the bar. Just close enough to slip a tracker into the guy's pocket. I stepped out of the bar, glancing over my shoulders at the others.

They continued to laugh and have a good time. But, the guy at the bar stood out of the corner of my eye. As I let the door fall behind me I could feel his eyes on me. Let the games begin.


	8. Alison

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

"Is this going to be a thing with you?" I asked, pulling thread through the Mask's shoulder. My finger slipped on the needle, jerking a bit on the thread and it twinged, causing him to hiss, audibly wincing. I exhaled a little, trying to hold the needle steady. "...sorry."

"It's okay," he said, adjusting a bit on my dining room chair. My fingers tightened on the needle as I clipped off another suture. Then I positioned more thread on the needle and started again. The gash on his shoulder, a little ways down from his collar bone, was only a couple inches long, but it was quite deep in the center. "Quite the shiner you got. What was it this time?" I asked, flicking up my gaze to glance at him for a split second. I sat back a little. "Wait- let me guess. A kitten got stuck in a tree, and a branch broke your fall on the way down."

He huffed an airy chuckle, the slightest hints of a smile on his lips, just below his signature black head covering. I bent back down to finished stitching while he spoke. "Yeah, yuck it up. You should see the other guys," he bantered, sarcastic.

"I've seen one. You know, the guy you threw off my roof with Angel?" I finished off another suture, and I felt him sigh. "I heard he's in a coma at Met Gen. Haven't heard much else. I guess no one knows yet it was you two that put him there."

"I know...I heard," he said, quietly. "I'm sorry you were involved. That you're still involved."

"Don't worry about it. I needed something _else_ to do when I'm not working," I shrugged it off, though I pondered it a second. He seemed genuine in his apology. It would seem that this 'Angel' was the instigator, but I don't know that for sure. One thing I know is helping this guy is temporary. "You seem experienced. Medically, I mean," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well...my mom made a habit of patching up bad men," I clipped off the last suture and sat back dropping the remaining contaminated thread in the trash bin beside my chair. "She patched up some good ones, too. Just mostly bad."

"I'm one of the good ones, Alison," he spoke up.

"I'm not too sure about that," I admitted, zipping up the medical kit. I sat upright, looking at him. His face remained pointed slight to my left while he remained quiet a moment. I sighed lightly. "Look...I get what you're doing, okay? I do. It doesn't mean that the ends justify the very bloody and bruised means."

"You worried about me?" He smiled a little.

"You've come to my house twice now covered in blood. You could say that I'm a little worried," I nodded slowly, like it was obvious.

"I'm a big boy. I've come to you alive both times, right?" I shook my head, chuckling once as I leaned forward. I pressed a gauze pad over the wound and ran a strip of medical tape over it to hold it in place. It wasn't much but it would do long enough for this guy to get to wherever it is he sleeps. "Okay, I'll give you that," I chuckled, sitting back. I stood and walked over to the couch, grabbing his black, long-sleeved shirt and tossed it to him.

He caught it with ease—almost one handed—and started pulling it on. "You know, one of these times, I'm gonna _need_ to see your face," I thought aloud.

"How's that?"

"Let's say you get a really brutal head injury. Am I supposed to piece you back together with your mask on, or...?"

He chuckled, standing. "I take it we'll figure that scenario out when it happens. Hey, have you heard the name Wilson Fisk?" I paused, trying to think. Wilson Fisk. It didn't immediately ring a bell. I can't remember ever hearing it before he said it. I shook my head. "No. Why?" I crossed my arms loosely.

"I thought maybe you would have heard something somewhere in your journalism career," he waved it off, heading for the living room window, several feet to my right. It was adjacent to the dining room table. He propped it open and stopped, turning toward me. "Thank you, Alison," he said, genuinely.

"No problem...erm...you know, I think I'm just gonna call you Jeff."

" _Jeff_?" He chuckled.

I held my hands up in defense. "Hey, I don't name people on the fly every day. Unless you have something better?" he was quiet a second, and I nodded. "You have nothing to complain about."

"Goodnight, Alison," he said, ducking out the window. I grabbed my med bag off the floor with a sigh, hefting it back to the bathroom. "Goodnight," I mumbled. I stuffed the bag back under the bathroom sink and shut off the light. Absentmindedly, I glanced down the hall at Chase's room. Thankfully he'd been asleep this whole time. There is no way I am ever involving him in this. And, I haven't figured out how, but I'm going to take that stupid cell phone away from him.

I have enough to worry about with him; I don't need that added to it. With that I decided to call it a night and saunter to my bedroom. And with the blaring of my alarm, my day started all over again. I was out of bed and showering by six on a good day. Today was not. I was running late—don't I always?—but I got Chase to school on time. I had a few residual moments left for me to stop by a Starbucks on the way to the Bulletin. But then it was time to focus.

My article was coming along. But, as I sat at my computer to write, I was already bored. Nothing interesting ever happened in Hell's Kitchen. Well, nothing besides the fact that two masked vigilantes run around the city at night a kick in people's faces. And one of them seems to think I'm their personal physician. I sighed, sitting back in my chair. I brought my coffee to-go cup to my lips just before someone to my left said, "Alison."

I jolted a little, nearly spilling coffee down my chin as I sat upright. "Yeah?" I asked, quickly, setting down the cup on my desk. Ellison raised an eyebrow at me, looking at me oddly. Then he shook his head before speaking. "Geez, Fletcher, switch to decaf, _please_ ," he said, almost begging. "Anyway, how long is the recovery piece now?"

"Um..." I glanced at the screen, eyeing the word count. "...a thousand words? Maybe?"

He sighed heavily. "You're killing me."

"I'm sorry, I just...I don't have much else to say," I turned back to him with an apologetic expression.

"No, no- there's plenty to say on this. Look out the window, Alison. People are out there right now trying to piece this city back together. Write about _them_. Write about what _they're_ doing. Skip over the hierarchy, politically correct viewpoints," he crossed his arms. "Get knee deep in the raw, dirty, nitty gritty intricacies. Write me some emotional piece on how—yeah, it devastated everyone—but we're gettin' back up. Write that, okay?" I was in a pause for a moment, staring almost agape. All I could think was— _wow, that was deep_. Even for Ellison. _Especially_ for Ellison. But he did have a good point.

I nodded sharply. "Okay."

"Good. On my desk by Monday, got it?" He started to leave before even finishing his sentence. I sighed and raised my voice to be heard halfway down the hall. "Got it, boss!" I replied, turning back to my computer. He wants something emotional, huh? I can write emotional. I stretched my fingers and then started typing.

"Along with the physical rebuild, New York City has been rebuilt on a personal level. Every day, people walking to work that day were affected by the devastation, by the pain, by the loss that came with the battle. Everyone in this city became a hero that day. Whether it was helping someone stand in a rushing crowd or pulling a six-year-old boy separated from his mother from a crumbling building—we stepped up. We came together, we fought together, we _survived_ together.

"Buildings are just brick and stone and metal. They can be replaced. And they _will_ be replaced one day. But the people are what make this city strong enough to last. We, as New Yorkers, are all raised to be fighters. Warriors. Working class citizens with the will to live. You don't need an iron suit to be a hero. You don't need a big green monster to be strong. You just have to get out of bed every morning. We're all going through hard times after what happened to our city.

"All of us have lost someone, been injured, seen horrific things, and stood on the front lines. Are lives have all flashed before our eyes. But we're building a new tomorrow, a better tomorrow, out of the ashes of our destruction. Neighbors helping neighbors, perfect strangers becoming good friends, and we're all a family helping to pull each other together."

I sat back in my chair, and then looked at the time. _5:59pm_. Work at the Bulletin was over. I sighed and stood. My joints felt stiff from sitting so long, and they screamed in protest as I reached for my bag and pulled on my coat. I turned off my desk lamp and started out. I pressed the elevator button and a second later the doors opened, so I stepped inside and pressed L. Not long after the elevator started its descent, the doors opened on the ground floor.

As I stepped out, my cell phone started buzzing in my coat pocket. I pushed through the doors as I shoved my hand into my pocket to fish it out. A cold wind hit me in the face like a wall of bricks. I hadn't even noticed when it had gotten dark upstairs. Finally, I wrestled my phone free from my endless pocket and answered the incoming call. "Hello?"

"Hello, this is Simon Lewis. I'm calling to inform you that your aunt—Laura Hurst—has passed. Your name was entered in her will," a man's voice came in from the other end. I stopped walking, standing on the sidewalk. Aunt Laura died? I didn't even know her health had declined. Why didn't dad call me? "There will be a meeting held on Thursday to sign for entitlements at her estate in Montauk."

"Okay...thank you. I'll be there," I replied, somewhat bummed. Aunt Laura was the nicest of my relatives. I spent almost every summer at her 'estate' as he called it, spending time with her and her two sons. They'd most likely be at the meeting. Maybe I can ask them about dad? "Have a good evening," he exited.

"Thanks, you too," I ended the call, sliding my phone away. I exhaled. Well, as if my day couldn't get any more depressing. I'm beginning to wonder exactly how much _worse_ a person's life can get in one month. I tried to file it away for later as I started walking for my car again. At my third step, I felt an all too familiar feeling in my stomach. My eyes scanned the street and sidewalks. Nothing. But I know this feeling. I've been feeling it for months.

It's that hair-raising feeling you get when you can sense eyes are on you. My heart rate gradually increased as I picked up my pace a bit. Dani said two weeks. It hasn't even been one. Have a little faith. Just walk fast and get to your car. I only caught the sound of a car engine a second before a black van slammed to a stop alongside the sidewalk, it's side door whipping open. My heart lurched into my throat and I instantly jumped to the side.

Two men in dark clothes leapt from the vehicle and were on me in a second, wrapping their arms tightly around my middle. "HELP! HE-" My screams muffled with a hand over my mouth and I thrashed against the man holding me, continuing to scream as loud as I could. I kicked my legs, swinging my head back, hard. I heard a cracking sound as we shuffled closer to the car. A muffled obscenity rang out in my ear. "Come on! Help me get her in the van!"

The other man in dark clothes also wrapped his arms around me, further restricting my movement, and we moved much faster toward the van. I dug my heels in but it wasn't enough. They dragged me into the back of the van, and I managed to kick one of them in the genitalia as he moved to close the door. He dropped to his knees beside me but motioned to the driver. "Go..." he groaned. "Go!"

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"No," I shook my head. I grabbed the door handle and pulled it toward me. I lingered, letting the turd go first.

"Oh, come on!" Chase complained, sighing heavily while flailing his arms. He finally exited the building and I followed behind him, letting the door fall shut. "The iron suit would almost guarantee that he'd win." We walked to the edge of the road, then I stopped and faced him.

"Okay, kid, look," I said. "What you're saying, just flat out, would never happen. But, _theoretically_ , in your fictional scenario, _if_ Captain America and Iron Man fought, even with the suit, he still wouldn't win."

"And why's that?" he crossed his arms, throwing in a little sass. I rolled my eyes. Am I really having this argument with a ten year old? I straightened, looking out over the street. I saw a chance to cross and put my hand on Chase's shoulder, pulling him across the road with me.

"For starters," I said as we reached the other side. Once again, I stopped and faced him. "Cap's a lot stronger than you think, and Iron Man's a lot of things, but an idiot's not one. And that's something he'd have to be to get into an all out brawl with one of his friends, _especially_ Captain America. I mean, if they did that…you'd have an all out civil war."

"What's that?"

"Really?" I sighed. "What are they teaching kids these days?" I put my hand on his shoulder and began leading him to the door of his building. Alison should be home any second and then I can transfer over the chain of command. We were half way to the door when my phone started ringing. We stopped and I fished it out of my jacket pocket. Chase sighed impatiently as I answered it. "Hello?"

"Hi-are you watching Chase right now?" I instantly went on high alert, my heart jumping out of my chest. I don't recognize the man's voice, but he sounds old and shaken. His voice unsteady and skipping. "You are the baby sitter, right?"

I unfroze. "Yeah…I am," it came out more of a question. "Who is this?" I smiled down at Chase so he wouldn't sense my uneasiness. As the man began to reply, an odd sound came from the side of the building. I whipped that direction. Something's wrong. I intertwined my fingers with Chase's and then walked a few feet to see down the alley.

"My name is Ben Urich, I work with Alison," he said as I scrutinized the alley from afar. "You need to listen to me, this is not a joke. Alison was just taken by some men in a black van." At that I thought I'd have a heart attack. I quickly let go of Chase's hand and then dug in my pants pocket. I found the pepper spray and then shoved it into Chase's hand.

I pressed the phone against my chest. "You slide this leaver to the side, point it where you want it to spray, and then push down and don't stop. Do you hear me?" Chase nodded, concerned now, but took it anyway. I brought the phone back up to my ear, grabbed Chase's hand, and then began leading him back to my place. "When did this happen?"

"About ten minutes ago," Ben replied. "I didn't know what to do. But, I remembered her telling me she had a baby sitter for Chase."

"Yeah. You were right to call me," I opened the door to my building and shoved Chase inside. "I'm not just the baby sitter, I'm the PI she hired." The other end of the phone was silent, the puzzle pieces were probably coming together for him. "She's been being followed by her ex ever since she got to Hell's Kitchen. Thank you for calling me, Mr. Urich. I'll get the boy to safety and then get her back."

"How are _you_ going to do that?"

"Was her phone left behind?" I asked, now shoving Chase into my apartment. I locked the door's deadbolt and then latched the chain. Then I ran to my desk, pulling open the drawer. I dug around until I found the remote and then activated the security system. Instantly, bars dropped down across all the windows. Then, I went to do a sweep of the apartment.

"No, not that I know of."

"Okay," I finished and then walked back out to the main room. "Thank you again for calling, I'll be in touch." I hung up before he could reply and then started dialing another phone number. "What's going on?" Chase asked.

"I have a lead on your mom's case, I'm just being extra cautious." I brought the phone to my ear. On the second ring he answered. "Foggy! Where are you?"

"In a cab on my way home. Why?" he asked. I glanced down at Chase.

"Remember our new secret… thing…?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I know I said I wouldn't involve you, but this is the world's biggest 'I need you' moment."

"What's wrong, where are you?"

"My place with Chase," I replied. I heard him cuss and then give the driver my address. "This has to do with Dawson," I hushed my tone and turned from Chase.

"Dawson? Alison's Dawson?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute." He hung up. I sighed, slightly relieved. Foggy showed up ten minutes later, and I was more than freaking out. They've already got a twenty minute head start. I explained the situation to Foggy. While he really freaked out, he also agreed to stay and watch Chase. I made sure the only way anyone's getting in here was if they were the Hulk.

I stood in my office with Foggy, the door closed and Chase on the couch in the other room. I traced Alison's phone. It's no longer moving, but at least I have an address. Even if she's not there, it's a lead. It's _something_. I was already fully dressed in my costume, ready to go assume the role of Angel.

I scribbled the address down and then slipped it into my pocket. "Thanks again, Foggy." I turned and headed for my closet exit.

"You're going alone?" his question stopped me. "Who knows what's waiting when you get there."

"In case you haven't noticed," I turned to face him, "I'm one of the _only_ good guys in this town." But, I'm not _the only_. I understand his concern, but I don't have the Mask's number. I can't just call him and ask him to help.

"I just don't like the idea of you going out into the unknown alone," Foggy sighed. I sighed and then glanced around my office. I don't like it either but… hey. An idea entered my head. It's a long shot, but it might work. "In the guest room," I said, "there are a few air horns. Can you please go get them?"

He looked at me weird and then went and got them. He brought back four. I thanked him and then stuffed them into a duffel bag. I put its strap over my shoulder, resting it on top of my quiver's. I grabbed my bow off the bed on my way to the closet. I stepped inside my hide out and then turned to close it.

"Be careful," Foggy said. I nodded and then closed the door. I ran up the stair to the roof, then began working my way across roof tops. I made it a few blocks away before deciding to stop. I sat the duffel bag on the floor, unzipping it. I have no idea if this will work. It might just be a waste of time.

I pull the four air horns out of the bag and then place them on the wall that surrounds the top of the roof. I lined them up, then reached back into the bag and pulled out a roll of duct tape. This better work. The Mask has 'super' hearing. So, if he's the type to sit on roof tops listening for danger, then he should hear this.

I peel off a strip of duct tape and wrap it around each air horn, causing each one to go off. All four of them sat on the edge, making a combined noise that was nearly deafening. "Come on…. Come on." I stood there with my hands over my ears, bouncing on my heals, praying he was hearing this.

After a few minutes, each one died out and the air became quiet again. My heart dropped and I sighed. He's not here. So it didn't work, and I'm going to get Alison back alone. Oh, well. I'll figure something out, I always do. I hear sirens in the distance, most likely because of me. I suddenly get the feeling like I'm being watched and whirl around.

The Mask jumped down from the taller building next to this one. His feet hit the pavement and he rolled, springing to his feet a second later. "That was quite the show," he smiled, as the sirens behind me got louder.

"I know," I said, both inwardly and outwardly sighing with relief that he showed. "But, I need your help and I didn't have any other way to reach you."

"What's wrong?" He instantly became all business. He went a little rigid as he walked closer to me. I flicked the air horns off the ledge into the dumpster below with the duffle bag. "It's Alison," I said, picking up my bow.

"What happened?"

"She was taken, outside of her work place, about a half hour ago." Concern and worry flashed across his face. "A couple of guys threw her in the back of a van. I would have been here sooner, but I needed to make sure her boy was safe."

"Is he?" he asked and I nodded. "Do you know where they took her?"

"I tracked her phone to a ware house owned by Veles Taxi. I have no idea if she's still there or if they just dropped her phone and ran."

"But it's a start."

"Exactly," I nodded. I pulled the paper out of my pocket and then read him off the address. Within seconds we were moving. We traveled a couple miles on the roof tops of random buildings. It was the worst ten minutes of my life. I haven't moved that way or that fast in a long time. By the time we reached the building, we were both out of breath.

A yellow taxi sat out front the two garage doors. Veles Taxi written on the side of it. "Why do I have the feeling we'll be doing more punching than I will arrow flying?" He grinned at my sarcastic comment. Then, he tilted his head down, pointing his ear at the building. He held the pose for a few seconds before speaking.

"She's here," he said. I inwardly sighed with relief. He only knows that because he can hear her. So she must be alive. "Six men are with her. They're asking about me." I caught a bit of regret in his voice. So, this _does_ have to do with him. But, how'd they know to grab her? And why now? So far, all signs might point to the Mask, but I still smell foul play on that Dawson guy's part.

"Okay," I nodded. "Thank you. For coming." He turned and looked at me.

He nodded. "How'd you know I'd hear you?"

"I didn't," I admitted. He nodded, as if he wanted to say something but didn't. I switched my bow to my left hand, as I followed him, heading for the building.


	9. Rescue Mission

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

The van traveled quickly. I tried to keep track of how long we went, but it was a bit hard in the stressful situation. My back pressed against the cold metal at the back of the van. My fingers picked at the duct tape around my hands, pinning them behind my back. After a few minutes, the vehicle came to a stop. The man driving spoke to the man sitting in the back with me, but I couldn't understand them. It sounded like they were gargling gravel while they spoke.

It was another language, a familiar one, but I couldn't quite place it. The men nodded to each other. Then the one in the back area of the van started moving toward me. I started pulling myself backward, quickly shaking my head, trying to fight it. He grabbed my arm and pulled roughly, yanking me to the van's sliding door. A man outside pulled the door open and grabbed my other arm. I writhed and kicked my legs out. They weren't much use with duct tape keeping both legs together.

But I used all my force to try and do _something_. They pulled me from the van and I screamed through the tape covering my mouth. My feet managed to clip one of them in the back of the head. It only angered the men, and two others hurried over to wrap their arms around my legs. "She's a little more feisty than original described, huh?" one of the men at my arms commented.

"Just get her to the chair," another said, sounding exasperated. I tried wiggling more but their grips were like iron vices. They shoved me onto a metal chair beside a taxi cab and stepped away from me. Directly in front of me, only a yard or so away, stood a tall man in black leather. He looked menacing. This didn't look good. But I put on the bravest face I could muster, trying to slow my breathing a bit. The tall man gestured toward me.

"Tape? How are we supposed to question her with tape covering her mouth?" he looked around at the others. When all they did was shrug, he sighed heavily. "Fix it, you idiots!" A man to my right hurried forward and gripped the corner of the tape on my mouth with his fingers, then ripped it form my skin. I hissed, wincing audibly at the intense sting. "Who are you people? What do you want with me?" I demanded.

"I'll ask the questions," the tall man said. "All we want are answers. You give them to us, we won't hurt you. Understand?"

I inhaled. "I understand."

"Good. Who is the man in the mask?" His face turned to stone, staring at me with a dead-pan seriousness that could make blood run cold. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know who the man was behind that idiotic excuse for a mask so I couldn't really tell this guy. I held my chin up, keeping silent. My hands shook behind me and I clasped them together to hold them still. He looked to a man at his right, then tipped his head toward me.

The man started for me and I braced myself. Solidity slammed the left side of my face, by my cheekbone. A force nearly threw me off the chair. Dense pain radiated up through my eye socket and a jaw felt loose. Then another hit to the same place, followed by a hit to my stomach. It forced all the wind from my lungs and I coughed repeatedly as I desperately tried to suck in a breath. My whole middle ached and my face stung.

"Let's try this again," the tall man announced. "What...is his name?"

I pulled myself up to sit as best I could on the cold metal chair, but my body just wanted to bend in half. I looked up at him a second. Then I gathered up enough saliva in my mouth and spat it at his feet. "Alright then," he gestured for the man at my left, just waiting to hit me again. And he did. With the next hit to my jaw, I tasted blood. This time the man didn't stop easily. I lost count as his fist repeatedly connected with my skin, over and over.

"Enough. Don't kill her quite yet," the tall man ordered. I drooped back into the metal chair in what I'm sure was a pool of my own blood. My left eye felt raw, and it stung badly. I was sure my lip was split and blood started to pool in my mouth. I rolled myself aside to spit it out. It only twinged the already stinging and burning skin on my face. I heard a ting, an odd metallic sound, and looked up as best I could through my right eye.

One of the men now held a silver baseball bat, and he twirled it in his hand. "Tell me his name," the tall man demanded, standing a foot from my chair. "Or this time, I won't tell him to stop." The man with the bat suddenly struck the taxi cab's window to the right of my head and I gasped sharply, dodging left as best I could. The glass tinkled to the ground and trailed onto my shoulder.

"What is it going to be, huh? Tell me... _his name_."

I looked up, shaking my head. "I don't know, I swear. He never told me," I admitted. My skin trembled a little as I glanced at the man holding the bat, my heart beating in my throat now. "Please, I don't know, okay? I don't know- I don't know his name!" The man with the bat seemed angered by my words. He lifted the bat and marched toward me and I shriveled into my chair. A small shriek escaped me.

"Not yet, you idiot!" the tall man said. I looked up. "We need her alive for now. Use your fists."

"No, no- please, I don't know who he is!" I pleaded, desperately. Of course, they didn't listen. The man with the bat was eager to hit something and I guess I just fit the bill. More pain, more blood, more hitting. Hits not only to my face but to my middle. Without a mirror I can't know what I look like but the whole left side of my face—and now my right side as well—felt like I'd used a cheese grader instead of a razor. More blood filled my mouth and it spilled from my mouth as I spit it out, nearly choking on it.

"This is your last warning. What is his name?"

I raised my head. One thought came to mind—Chase. These men obviously aren't going to be satisfied with another 'I don't know' and most likely I won't make it out of here. Everything started running through my head at warp speed. Do I trust Dani enough to watch Chase even after I'm dead? How is my mom? Who's going to tell her I can't go to Aunt Laura's estate due to my recent death? Am I okay with the way I left things with Foggy?

Suddenly the lights of whatever garage looking place we were in shut off, shrouding everything in a lick layer of darkness. "Sergei, check the breaker," the tall man said. The men said things in the other language, the one they used in the van. Just then it hit me—they were speaking _Russian_. These are the Russians. A whizzing sound caught my attention. I looked up just in time to see an arrow lodge itself into the tall man's thigh. He cried out, holding his leg.

Various grunts, slams, and other indescribably odd sounds came from behind. _The vigilantes. Great_ , I thought. I used the darkness to slide forward out of my chair. My knees hit the cement and I winced as a pain shot up my spine. I hissed, worming my way closer to the taxi cab. A barrage of gunfire startled me and I whirled around. In the light the bullets caused bouncing off other taxi's, I caught a glimpse of the man in the mask. He punched some guy in the face.

A volley of arrows was sent across the top of the cab, toward men across the garage from me, practically dropping them all to their knees. Boots suddenly came inches from hitting my face, followed by legs and a familiar face. Angel dropped down beside me. "Are you okay?" she asked, quickly.

She pulled an arrow from a sheath on her back and used the sharp tip to try and saw through the tape on my legs, leaning across me to do it. "No! No, I am not ' _okay_ '!" I replied, angered, like it was obvious. Because it should have been. Even in the dark the smell of the blood alone was enough to quease an iron stomach. Or maybe it's just the blood coming from my nose that's tainting my sense of smell.

Angel managed to cut through the tape at my legs, then moved to cut the tape around my wrists, kneeling behind me now. It was quiet a minute in the garage and I glanced around. Just then, the man in the mask stepped around the front of the taxi cab and I startled. "It's okay, it's me," he assured, kneeling beside me a foot. The tension holding my wrists released and I quickly pulled my hands in front of me. "Let's get you home."

I nodded a little as he leaned forward, putting his arms around my middle. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he hefted me up to my feet, the weight pressing on my sore muscles. A heat radiated up my spine and I audibly winced. I tightened my grip around him as I felt my feet slipping from beneath me. His arms tightened around my middle and I turned into his chest, holding onto him tightly. My chest felt tight and sunken in at the same time.

Without warning, tears poured from my eyes. My whole body trembled as I released the water I'd refused to let out when being beaten. For a moment, the only sound was that of the awful noise crying ensued. It hurt my rib cage to make any movement at all, which made crying even more appealing. The mask's grip around me tightened slightly in a half-hearted reassurance. "Don't worry," he said, semi-quietly. It felt meant for only me. "I've got you."

I tried to rein it in, hold back everything for a later time. It was a challenge. "If I weren't so beat up, I'd laugh," I said, on a tear-soaked wince.

"Do you trust me?"

I didn't know how to respond for a second. I nodded against his shoulder. "Y-yes."

"I'll get you somewhere safe, Alison. I promise." We adjusted my position so that I hung on his left side and Angel's right, one of my arms hooked around either of their necks. I forced myself to swallow down the tears as we started out of the garage, making myself sober.

Walking became a challenge. It was a one-step-at-time scenario. I most likely had some kind of rib injury, whether it is a simple fracture or a break, and it made it hard to move at all without it hurting. But Angel insisted I be home as soon as possible so that Chase wasn't alone.

That thought spurred me on a bit. It may have taken an hour or so but we made it to my building. In the door, around the corner, to the stairwell. We stopped at the bottom, and I looked up at the seemingly endless flights of stairs between us and my door. I exhaled ruefully, the breath shaking. "Why couldn't one of you have flight capabilities?" I muttered, under my breath.

"Sorry. Angel is just a name," I glanced at Angel and she smiled sarcastically. "Sooner we start, the sooner it'll be over." I sighed, but nodded, and we began the ascent. Step by step. Floor by floor. I don't know what hurt more, waiting here or getting up the stairs. "Don't vigilantes have getaway cars?" I asked, at floor three.

"You're thinking of the perpetrators," the man in the mask said, a certain humor to his tone reminiscent of a smile.

"Cops drive cars," I pointed.

"We're not cops," Angel disputed, through a groan, helping heave me up to the last floor.

"Yeah, okay. You have a point." I shoved a trembling hand into my pocket for my keys, praying they'd be there. My fingers encircled the familiar metallic circle and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Angel held her hand out, palm up, and I gave her the keys. She went ahead to unlock the door and I hung on the mask. He shuffled us onward and into the apartment behind Angel.

Pain swirled around in my head in an almost drunken way. The mask helped me to the couch and I eased myself down onto a cushion, my whole body screaming in protest. I clenched my jaw tight and squeezed my eyes shut, fighting a scream of my own making. "Someone needs to make sure Chase is safe," the mask said, turning halfway to see both of us, though his face remained downcast.

"I'll go. Bringing him here is probably the safest thing for him right now," Angel replied.

The mask nodded. "I'll stay with Alison." Angel nodded in response and hurried through my front door, closing it securely behind her. There was a split-second pause. Then the mask started walking toward my open bathroom door, and I raised my eyebrow—against my better judgement. It twinged the right side of my face and I hissed. "Can't hold it?" I asked, riding out the new wave of pain.

He disappeared into the bathroom, not turning on the light, and emerged a moment later with the med bag's strap in his hand. He walked back to me at the couch and dropped the bag on the coffee table. "You keep it in the bathroom," he answered, simply. "Do you have ice?"

I nodded slightly. "In the freezer."

He nodded and turned around, almost mechanically so, and started into the kitchen. He pulled open the freezer door, shadowing the better part of his upper half. "Are you gonna tell me why they were asking about you?" I called, slowly rubbing my shoulder. I heard ice clattering and he shut the freezer door, heading back for the couch. I heard him sigh. He held out the ice pack and I took it, holding it to the right side of my face, the side not _completely_ covered in blood.

He took a seat on the coffee table across from me. "The guy Angel and I took up to the roof was with the Russians. He must have told them somehow that you were here that night, that you were... _involved_ in what I was doing," he finally answered.

"Angel was here, too. Why didn't they ask about her?" I asked, slightly confused.

"Angel hasn't been hurting their operations—as far as I can tell," he explained. "So far, that's just me. Alison, I...I'm so sorry that this happened, to you. I should've watched you and- and made sure they weren't onto you."

"Don't beat yourself up-"

"I need to, um...I need to tell you something."

I paused. "Okay...? Jeff, what is it?"

"My name's not Jeff," He was still a moment, and I waited quietly, holding my breath. His hands slowly reached up to his face, his fingers gripping the black fabric of his mask. They tugged up. My heart beat faster by the second. As his face was revealed, it came into focus. "It's Matthew."

I sat there, practically agape on the couch, accompanied by an unparalleled lack of words. "M-Matt? Matt Murdock? _The blind lawyer_?" My voice rose in realization with each word. I sat forward a bit, pulling something in my middle, and I quickly moved back. I winced. "How does that even work? You're _blind_."

"Not entirely. You see, when I was a kid, some chemicals got in my eyes. It blinded me but everything else was so much louder. I can smell, taste, and hear better than any _normal_ person could. The taste of blood in your mouth—it's because of a cut in your left cheek, caused by your teeth biting down," he explained, his face slightly to the left of me. The taste of blood was in fact on my tongue but I couldn't tell where it was from.

I adjusted slightly to remove the pressure forming on my spine, then inhaled a breath. "So...you have heightened senses. Why go around in a mask, kicking people in the face?" I asked, trying not to sound sensitive to the issue. "I mean, you are a lawyer, you must believe in the law a little bit."

He opened his mouth with a weathered expression, but stopped, tipping his head to the right a bit. "Dani is coming up the stairs with Chase," he announced, turning back to me. His demeanor was hesitant. It took a second, but it clicked. He didn't want to leave. "Go. Chase can't know you were here, and Dani doesn't even know I'm still involved," I told him. "I don't really feel like explaining that one right now."

He nodded and stood, sliding his mask back over his face, stopping at his nose. He opened the window in the dining room and slid out, disappearing in a second. Honestly, I didn't want me to be alone. But I promised myself I wouldn't let Chase get tangled up in this. As it is, I'll already have to lie to him about this.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

There's no way I could have taken them on by myself. What happened to Alison… it's horrible- the way she looks…I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Going down that road isn't good. Very rarely do people come back from the long line of 'what if's'. I glance over my left shoulder and know that that's exactly what he's doing.

The Mask and I have been camped on top of the building across the street from Alison's for the last three hours. Funny part is that he doesn't know we're on my building. But, he's been incredibly serious, barely saying a word, since I found him here after dropping Chase off with Alison. I've never had to sneak out of my own building before, so that was interesting.

But thankfully, he seems too focused on Alison to care about what Dani's doing. Even though I can only see half of his face, I can still tell that he has no intentions of letting this go. He blames himself for what happened to Alison. I would too, if I didn't know what I know. Which is that this Dawson character was behind this. Of course, only Dani's supposed to know that.

But I can't let him beat himself up over something that wasn't his fault. Now, I have to decide how important it is to keep my halves apart. But I don't need to tell him I'm Dani to tell him what I know. My arms are crossed, leaning into the top of the brick wall surrounding the roof. My bow is on the ground by my feet.

I clear my throat, causing him to startle a bit, as I adjust my glasses. "This wasn't your fault." I say, tucking my hands into my jacket pockets, turning to face him. He sighed heavily. "Of course it was," he said. "They took her because she helped me- has been- helping me." He shook his head, "If you could've heard the _fear_ in her voice-" He pushed off the wall, taking a few steps away, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Okay. I can't take it anymore. "I'm serious, Mask. Look, I need to tell you something," I sighed. He turned around to face me. "Alison has her demons, like everyone, but this one has a name: Steve Dawson. Or, at least, that's _one_ of his names. Ten years ago, he was Alison's boyfriend. She told him she was pregnant and he tried to kill her." None of what I was saying seemed to faze him.

So, I continued: "It wasn't long after she moved here that I found out he was here, too. So…I've been working with, I guess you could say, Danielle Dylan, Alison's PI." That part, he didn't like. He opened his mouth to say something, didn't, and then ran his hand across his face again.

"Why?" he asked. "Why put someone else at risk?"

"So that stuff like this doesn't happen," I thrust my arm at Alison's building. "Dylan's being paid, by Alison, to _find_ this guy. She's going to look for him anyway, with or without me. It's probably safer, knowing what we know now, that I'm on _her_ side of this mess. So that _this_ doesn't happen to Dylan as well."

He looked like he wanted to protest and continue the argument, but didn't. "What do you know?"

"That this guy is a ghost. And he wants it to stay that way. Based on what happened tonight, I would have to say he's in bed somehow with the Russians."

"You think he had Alison kidnapped?"

"Yes. I think the Russians were out looking for a lead on you, when he came to them and figured he'd take out two birds with one stone. They'd get the person they're looking for and Dawson would get Alison out of the way, without breaking the agreement he signed with Dylan. Had it worked, Alison would be dead and custody of Chase would fall on him."

"All of this for the boy?"

"This guy has made a living off of being a nobody, being invisible. Chase and Alison, they threaten that, everything he's worked for. If he ends their lives, he _stays_ a ghost…and then no one's around to expose a past he wants hidden," I said. We both went quiet, letting the discussion sink in. I leaned into the wall again, and he went back to staring at Alison's apartment.

About a half hour past, and I swear I could see the sun rising in the distance. "They're not going to come for her. Not right now. _If_ they come again, they'll find a different way." When he didn't flinch, I sighed. I bent down and picked up my bow, every muscle stretching for the first time in hours. I straightened and then looked at the Mask, who was now looking at me.

"Thank you for calling me," he said.

I nodded. "Yeah, sure. Um… you got a better way for me to get a hold of you next time?"

He chuckled. "'Next time'? Do you always get into that much trouble?"

"Only when I'm wearing blue," I smirked. I handed him a piece of folded paper. "Call. You know, when _you_ need me?" I turned and started walking away. I hollered over my shoulder, "I know _you're_ number." I was halfway across the roof, when I stopped and turned around. He stuffed the paper in his pants, a grin on his face. We both lingered, probably each for a different reason.

"Goodnight, Angel," he said.

"'Night, Mask," I replied. I then spun on my heal, running to the edge of the roof. I put my hands on the wall, swinging my legs over it. I land five feet below, on the fire escape I remembered being there. Had to make it look authentic. Sure, he could try to follow me. But, I don't think so. See, thieves have honor, vigilantes have unspoken trust.

I sat on the fire escape for five minutes and then climbed back up onto the roof. He was gone, as I expected. I walked to the hidden door around the corner. I pulled off my glove and placed my hand on the scanner. It glowed green, followed by the sound of the door unlocking. It popped open slightly. I grabbed the handle, pulling it open the rest of the way, then slipped inside.

I walked down the stairs and into my hide out. I slid the wall panel back and then stepped out of the closet. It's so late, or early, I might as well not even bother sleeping. I walked through my room and to my desk. I'd called in a favor the other day, mainly to try and track down the real Steve Dawson. But, so far, no reply.

I wriggled the mouse to make the computer turn back on, and sure enough, my inbox was empty. I sighed and straightened. A floor board creaked as I saw movement in the corner of my eye. I had an arrow in my bow and the string pulled back as far as I could before I could even think the words 'someone's in here'.

A man stepped into the door way, the desk lamp and rising sun helping to illuminate his body. Black caviler, the slightest hint of purple on his chest. A quiver strapped to his back and a bow in hand. I lowered my bow, sighing and inwardly cussing. "You idiot. I could've shot you."

"Wouldn't have been the first time," he said, smiling. "Good reflexes, though." I rolled my eyes as I put my arrow back where it belongs. Clint Barton. If it weren't for the fact that he's family, I would've left him with the rest of my past. I walked to my room and tossed my bow on the bed. I heard him follow and turned around.

"Why did you break in? Ever hear of a door?" I asked. My goal has been to put S.H.I.E.L.D. out of my head. For good. As in forever. But it's kind of hard when your cousin is _still_ one of 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes'. I mean, who calls themselves that? I'll tell you, someone with one eye and his head so far up his-

" _You're_ the one who requested I look into this guy for you," Clint said. "And I decided to use it as an excuse to come and see you. You know, check in?" He eyed me suspiciously, looking me over from head to toe. "But, since you're the one covered in blood, I think you need to explain, first." Right. I almost forgot my jacket was still covered in Alison's blood.

I slipped it off and then threw it into the entrance to my hide out. "Sit," I told him. "And, I'll explain."


	10. Failed Attempts

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My fingers were a bit shaky, but I held the pen as best I could as I scribbled down some words. It'd come to me last night—the idea for a story. Of course, Ellison will probably shoot me down and this story will just go in the recycling bin with the fifty-million others he didn't agree on. But I'm not going to let that happen. "Writing another masterpiece?" Matt sat a foot or so to my left, beside me on his couch.

"You could say that," Something moved in my peripheral and my eyes darted left. He held out a steaming mug, a tea bag tag hanging down its side. I made myself toss the pad of paper and pen I held onto the coffee table in front of me, then turned toward Matt a little, taking the mug. "Thanks, for all this—I owe you."

"No, you don't," he shook his head.

"Come on. Matt, don't pull that with me. I didn't have to let you into my apartment bleeding to death, did I?" I pointed out. "I knew the risks." He sighed, his face aimed somewhere straight ahead. I sipped the tea a second. The welcome heat helped with my sore throat. I just wish it would do something for my sore everything else. "Hey, can you tell me what this is?" Matt asked. I raised an eyebrow as he held out a folded and semi-crumbled piece of paper.

Then I remembered. Right, he's still blind. My mind's too fuzzy to not be confused by this, but I try to take it in stride. "Sure," I took the paper. I unfolded it and squinted to read. "It's a phone number. New York area code, too. Who's is it?"

"Angel gave it to me last night, a while after I left your apartment. She said it was to contact her in case something else happened," he explained, digging in his pocket. He pulled out a slim cell phone and held it out in my direction. "Can you put it in as a contact, please?"

"Yeah." I took the phone from him and clicked into the empty address book, then created a new contact with Angel's phone number. It seemed kind of odd she'd give out her personal phone. It had to be a fake, a burner. That way it couldn't actually be traced back to whoever she happens to be during daylight hours. "It's number three on speed dial," I informed, holding the phone out to him.

"Thanks, Alison," he said, sliding it away. Silence settled in again. It suddenly dawned on me what I'd been writing, and I grabbed the pad of paper off the coffee table. "Matt?"

"Yeah?" He turned toward me slightly.

"I want to write about you. Well, not exactly you, but rather your other half. The vigilante one," I began. "Last night got me thinking, and vigilantes have done a lot of good for me over the years. I'm probably not the first one to assume that they help others as well. I want to write about all the good you and Angel have been doing for the city."

"I'm not so sure that's such a good idea, Alison," he shook his head a little.

"Just hear me out. I won't mention any specifics—like names, or maybe even real places—but I'll write what happened. Last night, I thought I was going to die. All alone, with no one but an angry Russian man with a baseball bat. I thought no one was coming for me. You and Angel save lives. And no one ever really knows, no one ever sees it," I argued, trying to persuade him. He exhaled lightly. For a short moment, he was quiet.

This would be the time I would really like super powers. It would come in handy a lot in my line of work. Finally, Matt inhaled, turning his head back toward me a bit. "Alright, write the story. Tell them what happened last night. Just leave me out of it."

I raised an eyebrow. "What? But you were there."

"I know. But I don't want credit for something I caused to happen in the first place. Just promise you will leave me out of it," he urged.

"Okay...I won't write you into it," I agreed, sinking back into the couch. Just then, a short series of knocks sounded from the front door. Matt stood and headed in that general direction and I put the paper back down on the table. I leaned back with my mug, taking another sip. "Hey, Foggy..." I just barely overheard Matt saying Foggy's name. My eyes shot wide. "...yeah, she's on the couch..."

No. Not now. I quickly looked over myself. Pajama pants and a baggy sweatshirt—both Matt's—were all I had on. And I hadn't looked at myself in the mirror for a good six hours or more, so I have no idea how my face looks now with the darkening bruises on my cheeks and jaw bone. As I wrestled with the idea of hiding in the bathroom, Foggy entered the main room. I turned a little to see him, painting on a smile.

"Hey. Oh, man. Look at what they did to you. How are you feeling?" Foggy asked, stopping at the end of the couch. His expression was genuine worry. He didn't seem to notice my unflattering appearance and I thanked God for that. I inhaled, trying to nod without my head hurting—epic fail, by the way. "A lot better than last night," I answered, trying to sound upbeat about it.

"Why did the Russians even know you existed?" he asked, sitting down on the cushion next to mine. My gaze flickered up to Matt, walking into the kitchen, then I looked back at Foggy with a shake of my head. "I don't know. Dani said she thinks it has something to do with my ex," I explained, before taking a sip of my tea.

"Oh...yeah, that _would_ make a lot more sense than _my_ theories. Does Dani have Chase today?"

I nodded. "Have you spoken to her?"

"No," he shook his head. "Hey, Matt, maybe you should go check on Dani." Foggy's tone was normal, but his expression said otherwise. It was his sarcastic, humorous expression. Like a child would make when teasing someone about a crush. I couldn't help smiling. I didn't look, but I heard Matt say, "Why?"

"Well, you know, we just haven't heard from her," Foggy said. "You know, just to make sure everything's okay?"

"Why can't _you_ just go?" Matt asked, walking back to the living room with a beer. Foggy looked to me, urging me to come up with an excuse, gesturing a little at chest-level with his hands. My mind tried to think of something as quickly as possible. "Foggy said he would hang around for a while," I lied. "You could escape boredom while you're at it?" I gestured for Foggy to carry the torch, and he was visibly running through a series of possible excuses.

Matt sat in one of the chairs opposite the couch, and Foggy nodded along, agreeing with me. "Yeah, I wouldn't think you'd enjoy sitting through our second date," he continued, sporadically glancing at me, almost as if asking permission to lie about it. I encouraged him to keep going with my eyes, gesturing a little with my free hand. He held up his hands and widened his eyes, mouthing, "I can't think of anything!"

I sighed, turning my head to look at Matt, who looked mildly amused. "Why aren't _you_ dating anyone, Matt? Any girl would be lucky to be with you."

"Uh, my life's a little complicated for a long-term relationship," he waved it off.

"Oh, come on. What if a really awesome girl came along? Someone that was as great as you were? She was selfless, nice, and could take care of herself-"

"Someone who understood complicated and loved you anyway," Foggy supplied, finishing for me.

Matt sighed heavily. "Guys, I'm...I'm flattered, really. I just don't think Dani's interested." Foggy made an appalled expression, almost as if he'd just choked on his food and survived. It was really hard not to start laughing just because of that. And then he started talking. "Are you kidding me? She's single, you're single. She's gorgeous and _you_ can't get much better looking." Matt huffed a chuckle at his words. "You're both a catch! It doesn't hurt to ask, right?"

Matt was quiet, looking somewhat down a minute. Foggy glanced at me with a hopeful expression before turning back toward Matt. "Alright, I'll...I'll go over to her place and check on her," he agreed, finally. Foggy threw a fist in the air excitedly, then paused. "Wait, what about asking her out?" Foggy asked, raising one eyebrow.

Matt sighed. "Yeah, Foggy, I'll ask her out."

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

Even if I had tried, I doubt I would've actually been able to fall asleep. The events of the night before, or a few short hours ago, kept trying to creep into my mind. I was thankful Chase stayed the night with me, to help take my mind off of everything. As soon as they opened, I called his school and called him out sick. It seemed like a good idea at the time…while he was sleeping.

But, after five hours with Chase I regretted the sick day. I let him have free range on the video games, as long as he kept it muted, so I could concentrate on what Clint found. I sipped my coffee, then opened another file. I spent about an hour combing through the fabricated story 'Mr. Dawson' created for alias number three: Wesley Owen Welch. Clint was thorough, I'll give him that. He cleaned S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainframe getting every ounce of information he could.

 _This_ file, alias number four, is simply labeled: James Wesley. 'Wesley' must mean something to him if he's willing to risk using it in the names of _two_ separate identities. That could be in his real name, somewhere. Or maybe a nickname from his life before secrets, expensive suits, and his 'employer'.

This name, though, has me intrigued. I spent two hours reading and rereading. The only name in this file, besides Wesley, almost made the hair on the back of my neck stand up when I thought it. Wilson Fisk. I abruptly stand, file in hand, and walk into my room. I step over Chase's controller cords and head for the bath room. Clint was in the shower, but I couldn't wait.

I wrapped on the door. "Are you sure this is all of it?" I shouted through the door and over running shower water. I hear a muffled sigh, then the shower curtain pull back slightly. "Yes, Dani," he sounded more amused than annoyed, "I'm sure that's why you called him a ghost."

"Yeah, but…did you happen to look into the names in the files, like Wilson Fisk?"

"Yeah. More dead ends. Or beginnings, I'm not sure which. But, that Fisk guy's only known existence is with a place called Landman and Zack. Besides that…another ghost," he sighed. I sighed, too. Of course ghosts would know other ghosts, and work for them. But, how did these too meet on the 'Ghost Net', of all places? Whoever Fisk is, he's got to have a lot of money. So…how'd he earn his millions if he doesn't exist?

"You're…" I glanced at Chase. There's no telling what he might repeat later. "You're boss didn't have anything else on Fisk?"

"Yeah, he did. I'll tell you later," Clint said. That's key for 'the kid can't hear'. Meaning that Fisk is somehow on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar. I walk back in front of Chase and to my desk. I toss the open file down, staring at it. The bell on the door rang. I come back to reality and then walk out of my office into the lobby. Entering was a man, not much younger than I am.

He has a tailored, jet black suit, dark hair that's cut almost too perfectly. He does a quick, casual, glance around the room with that 'I'm sexy and I know it' look on his face. He closes the door, exposing a very expensive, very high tech, watch strapped around his wrist. I sigh, then cross my arms. I walk in front of my desk and then lean my butt into it. "What can I do for you….Agent?"

The man gives a knowing smirk as he removes his black sunglasses. "What are they teaching agents these days?" I shook my head. "You must be fresh out of the academy."

"Actually, I'm not," he reached into his jacket and pulled out his badge. "My name is Agent Grant Ward. I've been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for some time now." He came closer and gave me his badge.

"Well, I guess that's _your_ bad," I examine it for a minute and then hand it back. "Seriously, though, just lead with Agent Ward. No agent says his first name. It's tacky." He smiled, tucking away the badge, flashing his gun.

"I'll remember that," he said. "But, I'm here on official business-"

"Yeah, and you can tell Fury I'm done." I stand and walk around the desk to my chair.

"Fury didn't send me."

"Of course not. You're probably a level five, six? You've probably never met the guy, luckily for you. Look, kid, I don't care who sent you. If it has to do with S.H.I.E.L.D., I don't care what you're selling, I'm not buying." I looked down at my desk and started pretending to short through papers. He sighed heavily through his noise. I'm sure whoever sent him isn't going to be too happy with that response. Oh, well.

He opened his mouth to speak, but thankfully, the door opened, ringing the bell. His lips sealed as I glanced up to see who'd entered. Matt walked in and closed the door behind him. I'm sure he probably just found out about what happened to Alison and is now here to give me the third degree. "Just a sec," I holler at him. Then I turned my attention back to Agent Ward. "Well, after careful review, Mr. Ward, I'm sorry but I can't do business with your firm. I've had a lot of experience with them in the past, as you know. None of which benefitted anyone."

I folded a blank piece of paper and handed it to him. "Well," he said, taking the paper, "thank you, again, for considering the position." He nodded, knowing I was acting so Matt wouldn't find out what was really going on. Agent Ward played along, leaving the building without another word. I put my elbows on the desk, dropping my head in my hands.

I sighed heavily, combing my hair back. That went a lot better than I thought it might. I nodded to myself and then stood. "Mr. Murdock," I walked around the desk and to him. He smiled as I got closer. "What?"

"You don't have to be so formal all the time," he said, gesturing in a way that I knew he was being sarcastic.

"Ah, yes. Well, you see, that's a two-way road," I tucked my thumbs in my back jean pockets. "And, I don't know about you, but I, quite frankly, like it when you call me 'Miss Dylan'." I almost regretted saying it as soon as it came out. It came out in more of a flirtatious way than I wanted. But, I meant it. He smiled, looking down and readjusting his stance.

Well. I hope I didn't just sink _that_ boat. I let out a small embarrassed sigh. "I'm sorry, Matt, but I don't have any new developments in Alison's case. And after last night, I wish that wasn't so." But that was a lie, as usual. I do have a lead, in fact I have a couple. But none of them I can _really_ use without saying where I got them. I won't be sharing any of this with the group until I know for sure, and have a good lie for where I got this new info.

"Actually, that's not why I came," Matt began to speak when we were both cut off. The smell of freshly washed man assaulted my nostrils, quickly filling the room. I sighed. Oh, please no.

"Hey, El." I turn around and see Clint standing in the doorway to my office with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. My mouth fell open. I slightly gasped, shaking my head. "What are you doing?" I spoke in a low tone like I was mad, thrusting my arms out to the side. He smiled.

"You said you wanted to talk."

"You can't-" I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. I turned to Matt. "Just a second." He nodded, though his jaw was clenched almost looking perturbed. I shook my head and walked up to Clint, getting as close to him as I could and whispering: "Clint! I'm working. This is my job, too. You can't just come out here half naked whenever you feel like. And, I wanted to talk with you in private. That means you wait until I have a second that I can get away from work."

He leaned in closer, whispering, his eyes glancing over my shoulder at Matt. "Yeah, but you gotta admit…you _do_ like seeing me shirtless." I rolled my eyes. He's just teasing me, but he spoke as if he meant it. Almost like we're a couple.

"Clothes. Now."

"Yes, Ma'am." He smiled and walked away.

"My bottom dresser drawer," I hollered, remembering I'd forgotten to tell him where I moved his stash too. For a while, he was staying at my place after missions or just in his down time. But, sometime he'd come here because Fury told him to hide. So, he started keeping spare clothes here.

I slightly relax, turning back to Matt. "Sorry about that." I tried to brush it off like it was nothing. I walked up to him, absentmindedly rubbing my right shoulder. "What were you going to say?"

Matt shook his head. "Not much. I just wanted to thank you, in person, for everything you've done for Alison."

"Yeah, she was kid napped."

"I know, but…you don't know how much it means to her to have you trying to catch this guy," he said. "I just wanted to come by and make sure you weren't beating yourself up about it. I know how hard it can be to find people. Especially when they don't want to be found." I nodded, thinking. He has no idea how hard this has been. So hard, I even got S.H.I.E.L.D. involved.

"Thanks," I nod. He turned and walked to the door, opening it. He stopped in the doorway, turned and looked at me.

"Goodbye, Miss Dylan." Matt left before I could reply. That was nice of him to say that, but it felt a little icy. Almost robotic, like he'd switched to default. I shake my head, snapping out of it. "Clint!" I walked into my office to find him sitting at my desk, _finally dressed_ , kicked back with his feet on the desk. "You are so lucky that that wasn't a paying customer. That stunt could have ruined my reputation."

"Okay," he threw up his hands. "I get it. Won't happen again. Now…do you want to know more about Fisk?"

"Yes, tell me everything."

"All I know is that one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies is looking for him, and not to play nice. They want him dead, no one knows why. But Fisk is good at being bad, you cross him you're dead. We don't know much, but right now he's an enemy of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Well, who wants him?" I asked, impatiently.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Foggy asked, giving me a sympathetic look. He had the expression and demeanor of a kicked puppy. I tried to think about that a second. Am I in _a lot_ of pain? Well, my head is throbbing, my face feels cold and numb—like I've lost some feeling there—and it hurts when I breathe. I think you can define that as _a lot_. I opened my mouth to respond when my cell phone started beeping. My eyes scanned the room. Where'd I put my purse?

Right. It's on the table. "Foggy, could you grab my-"

"On it," Foggy quickly stood, speeding for the table behind the couch. Then he held my phone out to me from behind and to the left, and I took it. I nodded in thanks before answering the call. "Hello?" I said. There was a muffled sigh of relief on the other end, followed by a brief shuffle. I lifted an eyebrow. Then Urich's voice came through the line. "You don't know how relieved I am to hear your voice," he said. "How are you holding up?"

I turned a little to glance behind me. Foggy was ambling around the kitchen, doing who knows what. I moved to sit facing forward again. "Uh...not entirely great," I admitted, feeling a head ache coming on. "It was nice of you to call, though, Ben. Thank you."

"Well I had to make sure my girl was alright," It sounded like he'd be smiling if I could see him. The thought made me smile a little, but the current throbbing inside my skull dampened any joy I could've gained from it. "I heard I should be looking forward to this week's Bulletin. Apparently, a rising star is getting an article printed _front page_?"

He sounded proud. I smiled a little more. "Yeah...I wanted to call and tell you myself but I was kind of beat after the trip to the office," I apologized. "But I think you'll like it. It's a piece that should have _your_ name on it, I just was lucky enough to get the inside scoop first."

"Yeah, yeah. You earned it. Especially after what you've been through," he said, seriously.

"Mm...maybe."

"Look, I won't take up any more of your time. I just want you to know I'm rooting for you—as is half the Bulletin. You get some rest, okay?"

I nodded a little, though he couldn't see it. "I will. Thanks, Ben."

"Good night, Alison."

"Good night." The line went dead and I hung up my end. I made to reach out, put the phone on the coffee table, but something pulled in my middle and I hissed in an audible wince. I retracted slightly just as Foggy swooped in. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He nabbed the phone and slid it onto the table, then sat beside me with a worried expression. "Careful there, Arnold. Here. I got you more tea."

I wrinkled my nose as I sat back. "It's not that wild blackberry garbage that tastes like cough syrup, is it?"

"Peach blossom sunrise." He shook his head, saying the words as if it was the title of a princess or other member of royalty. He held up the steaming mug and I smiled at him, gently taking it into my hands. "Thanks," I said, before taking a sip. It was sweet and light and had such a mild tea flavor. It tasted more like fruit juice than any tea I've ever had. It was definitely a nice change from that tangy, bitter nightmare of blackberries.

Foggy put a laptop on the coffee table and adjusted it to face us as he opened it. "I was thinking, maybe we watch a movie?" he suggested, twisting to see me as he leaned close to the keyboard. He jutted up a DVD case, and I nodded, then squinted to see the title. " _The Proposal_? What's that?" I asked, curiously.

He scoffed. "Just one of the _best_ romantic comedies _ever_."

"Who's in it?" Foggy slid the DVD into the player and slid it closed, then sat back next to me. "Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock. They play these people that work together—they despise each other, right—and then in order for her to stay in the country she has to be married to a US citizen- you just need to watch it," he explained, smiling cheesily. I managed to chuckle at his words without causing damage to my ribs, thankfully. He pressed play on the movie and the screen faded in.

The movie proved to be quite enjoyable. I didn't think I'd like it but it was better than I anticipated. We reached the point when Sandra's character started chasing after the eagle—that had kiped her cell phone—holding the dog in the yard, when I noticed some movement in my peripheral. I pried my eyes off the screen to glance left. "Everything okay?" I asked Foggy.

"Yeah...I'm just having a hard time figuring out if I should put my arm around you," he said, causing the corners of my lips to curve up.

"Why couldn't you?" I questioned.

"Well, you still seem kind of sore from last night, and I wouldn't want to-"

"Foggy, put your arm around me," I rolled my eyes. "I promise I won't break. See?" I grabbed his right wrist and pulled his limp arm around my shoulders, adjusting slightly to lean into his side. I glanced up at him with a small smile, waiting for him to say something overly sarcastic and witty. "So you're feeling better then?" he smiled, his tone mildly sarcastic.

"I am now," I smiled fully.

"That's good." In any other situation, any other place, I would've said something else. I would've kept him talking or made a point of moving back to watch the film playing without us. But it hit me suddenly. His face was really close to mine, and his eyes were lit up from the computer screen. Only inches away.

My chest felt constricted at that realization. His head slowly tilted down, moving closer until his lips brushed mine. He kissed me. And it would've been so perfect. But I started thinking about the last time someone kissed me. The last time, it was Steve, the morning before-

I pulled back a little too quickly as bad memories started filtering in. A heat boiled across my rib cage and collar bones, and I wince audibly. "Oh, geez- are you okay?" Foggy quickly reacted, inching back to give me space, but staying close enough to help me if needed. I nodded as I gripped my arm around my middle to hold myself together. "I'm sorry, Alison. I shouldn't of-"

"No, no. It's okay. It was my fault."

I shook my head as best I could with my headache. He didn't seem believing. "What can I do?" he asked, starting to sound a little helpless. I needed to give him something to do. So I counted the hours in my head, and nodded a bit. "Could you get me a Vicodin?" I asked. He was up before I even finished. "There in the bathroom, under the sink."

"Yeah, one sec." He disappeared into Matt's bathroom and I closed my eyes. I took in a deep, slow breath. My mind wasn't prepared for that, I guess. How could it be? It's been so long. Foggy suddenly reappeared holding his hand oddly, palm up, most likely holding a pill. Sure enough, he sat beside me—father away this time—and held out his hand. He had two pills.

I gratefully took them from him and placed them strategically in my mouth, then took a drink of my now cold tea. Once I had them swallowed, it was back to watching the movie. He tried to act like nothing happened. But I couldn't help feeling bad about it, seeing him sit even farther away from me than before the movie. I turned back to the movie and tried to push the thoughts out of my mind. _You're safe, Alison. You're safe_.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I ducked inside the building's door, out of the rain. I went straight for the stairs and began climbing up to Matt's and Foggy's law firm. A couple hours ago, Foggy called me asking about a movie suggestion. But he also let it slip that Matt came to my place earlier pretty much for the sole reason of asking me out.

I don't care about that. What I _do_ care about is that he totally got the wrong idea. One of the things I hate the most is giving people the wrong impression. I rounded the corner and saw Karen walking my way. She smiled. "Hey. Is Matt still here?"

"Yeah. He's closing up," she said. I smiled and waved, "Thanks." She waved back and continued past me. I sighed, then continued down the hall. I got to the law firm's door and knocked as I entered. "Hey, Matt." I didn't hear a reply but I continued in, anyway. I closed the door. All the lights were off. Big shocker, since he's blind.

"I think I kind of liked 'Mr. Murdock'," a hint of amusement in his voice. I smiled as I turned around. The light from the window lit up the side of his face, revealing half a smile. He started walking toward me. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Dylan?" He stopped two feet in front of me, most of him now engulfed in darkness.

"Actually…I'm here because I think I owe you an apology," I said. He tilted his head to the side, clearly confused. "Okay. This might be a little embarrassing for both of us, but I'll never forgive myself if I don't say something." Now he was truly intrigued. I inhaled. "Foggy told me why you came to my place earlier. The real reason, I mean." He sighed, shrugging his shoulders almost. What is _that_ supposed to mean. Something good? Bad?

He could just be mad Foggy told. Or slightly embarrassed I know he was going to ask me out. "And, quite frankly, I don't care. What I do care about is the reason why you _didn't_ ask me." He looked at me, his features softening a little. "The guy in my apartment"-I cleared my throat –"you know…the naked one? Well, he's my idiot cousin, who just showed up on my door step the night before. I just needed you to know that - from me, and not Foggy telling you later." I let out a breath, relieved I told him that.

He slightly grinned. Probably he's laughing at himself on the inside. I sighed, taking a step back. "You'll also be glad to know…he's leaving tomorrow afternoon," I said, "so, no more naked guys at my apartment."

He nodded. "I'm glad to hear that," he sounded more amused with the situation than I was hoping. He smiled and then walked past me to his walking stick, propped against the wall on the other side of the room. He grabbed it, walked slightly toward the door, then stopped and looked at me. "Can I walk you out?"

"Yeah, sure," I nodded. I walked up to him and pulled the door open. He walked out of the office and I followed, swinging the door closed. He pulled out his keys and locked the door. "Ready?" I asked, watching him slide his keys into his pocket. He nodded with a sigh that said he'd had a long day.

He transferred his walking stick into his left hand, then held out his right arm toward me. I'm assuming he wants me to take it, or needs me to. So, without a word, I slid my left arm around his. Then we began making our way out of the building.


	11. Front Page

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"'Hell's Kitchen is home to many different types of people and cultures. During the day, you'll find your average working class citizens just trying to get from point A to point B. But walk the streets at night and you'll find something else entirely,'" I read aloud Alison's article to Clint, in my lobby. It's actually the first time I've bought a paper in years.

She explained how the Russians had kidnapped her, but pretended like it'd happened to someone else. That was a smart move, not naming names. But, the Russians know who she's talking about. She just splashed their failure all over the front page. She even describes them as part of the Russian mob working out of Hell's Kitchen. "'The victim explained that she dove beside a taxi cab just before a wave of arrows launched over it, aimed for a Russian mob member not far from her.'"

"A 'wave of arrows'?" Clint asked, skeptically. "What exactly went down that night?" I rolled my eyes, knowing he was teasing me again. He took the paper out of my hands and then began scrutinizing it. "'The residents of Hell's Kitchen can sleep easy knowing they have The Angel of Hell's Kitchen watching out for them'?" He flicked the paper down, looking up at me. "This is child's play."

"The article, or how we risked our lives to save her?" I pulled the bath towel draped across my shoulders up, drying off the rest of my hair.

"The article. And, where's the stuff about what's his face? She's left that out, making it seem like you did that all by yourself."

"Thanks," I scolded, snatching the paper back. "I might be the only one shooting arrows, but Alison's not one to play favorites. She must've talked to the Mask before she wrote the article. Most of this town had no idea they had vigilantes running around."

"Well, now they do. But that's put a target on your back. People will be looking out for you, putting you in the spot light."

"Yeah. Though I guess it was only a matter of time before someone put me on YouTube. Now everyone knows." I stopped and thought, staring at the article.

"I like the name, though: 'The Angel of Hell's Kitchen'," he said it with a lot of enthusiasm. Probably a little too much. I rolled my eyes, biting my lip. "I think you're taking this 'vigilante' thing way too seriously. Every time I see you you've become more of the hero this article is calling you." I know he's only referring to the fact that I just dyed my hair bleach blonde, so I shrug.

"The wig was becoming too much of a liability," I mumbled.

He looked around, "No kid today?" I shook my head. I sighed, walking over to the desk.

I tossed the paper down and then turned around, "The Russians now know I was involved. They'll want us both dead now. They probably think we're working together."

"Well, aren't you?"

"Three times," I held up three fingers. "I've worked with him _three_ times. The only problem is that Dani _and_ Angel are now Russian targets, since Wesley seems to be in bed with them. I need to find Wesley."

"And do what? People like him don't spill their guts easy, and you've never been much for interrogation."

"Please. I know how to threaten someone and make them believe I'll follow through. Just the other week, or whenever it was, I dangled some idiot off a roof…and he talked."

"And after?"

"The Mask pushed him off," I sighed. "But, there's something…something I'm not seeing about this guy. Wesley. I don't know what his end game is. I've got _plenty_ of theories. But that's all. How am I supposed to stop Wesley from getting what he wants if I don't even know for sure what that is?"

"Please. You'll figure it out." Clint nodded, then stood. "But, you're missing the bigger picture. You need to worry about the guy next to you before you worry about the guy with the gun to your head. Are you sure this guy-the Mask- is someone you want to trust your life with?" He walked a little closer, then crossed his arms. "Or should I say, _can_ you trust him with your life? That he won't turn on you in order to fill whatever agenda _he_ has?" I don't know anything for sure. And just last week I wasn't sure which side he was on.

But after what happened with Alison…he took it really personally. I might not have super hearing like he does, but with him, I don't need that to be able to tell if he's lying. He seemed completely genuine. He was truly upset that she got caught in the middle of his war. I nodded. "Yes…I'm sure." Clint didn't seem convinced. And neither did I.

I tried to forget about it and move on with my day. I went to my room and slipped on a wig almost the same shade as my natural hair color. It'll take a while to get used to wearing a wig all the time. But kicking people's butts will be easier, knowing I don't have to worry about my wig falling off. I said a quick goodbye to Clint and then headed to the law firm. Foggy needs me to look at some printer that's not working. He also said something about electrical wires. I hope he knows that my business cards don't say 'electrician'.

About twenty minutes later I was at the law firm. I walked in and found the trio in the main room of the office space. Foggy saw me and smiled. "Hey, Dani, you read Alison's article?"

"Yeah. Interesting, huh?" I said, giving Foggy a look saying 'I don't want to draw any attention to this'. I mean, really. The stinking hero described in the article just walked into the room. He nodded, but I could see the realization on his face. "Who knew this place had a secret vigilante."

"Actually there are two," Karen said. Ah, poo. I forgot that the Mask saved her. Oh, wait. I was there too. Dang it. Well, that plan didn't work. Right now I'm inwardly slapping myself. The only way to get out of this is to play alone until I can change the subject. "Two?" I asked. "So, the rumors about some guy in a black mask beating people up are true?"

Karen nodded. "Yeah. Both him and the woman in Alison's article saved me at my apartment."

"How do you know it was the same girl?" Foggy asked, skeptical for my benefit.

"The description Alison gives," she picked up the paper and unfolded it. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked at the paper. "'She described the girl as tall and thin, wearing a blue leather jacket with bleach blonde hair in a braid. She wore blue tinted glasses that covered her face'." She lowered the paper. "That description is exactly like the girl who helped save me."

"Well it sounds like this isn't the first town she's saved people in. So I honestly wouldn't be too shocked if it _was_ really the same girl," I said.

"Plus, she sounds like she knows what she's doing," Foggy suggested. "She sounds more…professional than the other guy."

"Yeah, from what I've heard he just runs around town in his pajamas," I scoffed. My comment caused everyone to chuckle. But, I'm serious. No one takes me seriously. The Mask's outfit does need a few upgrades.

"Hey, while we're on the subject," Matt said. "Has anyone heard anything about a Russian getting his head cut off in Hell's Kitchen?"

I cringed. "Nope," I said, and the others agreed. "That's disgusting." Where did he hear that? I wonder if the Mask knows. Or if he did it. I doubt he did it. Pushing a man off a roof is one thing, cutting his head off…that's a whole new ball game. I know the Russians have been trying to take over, but who'd they anger so much they chopped their head off? Oh, well. I just hope it was one of the ones who took Alison.

"-now they chop you're melon off," I only heard the last part of what Foggy was saying. "What's next? Groping corpses?"

"Nelson." He looked at me. "You called…?"

"Right." he sprang into action as the others laughed. I don't know where he was going with that but I'm glad I changed the subject. "The printers not working, I was hoping you could take a look at it. And, we got a new phone line, only problem is that the jack is in the ceiling." His face slightly cringed at the end, knowing he was asking too much.

I looked up, then back at Foggy. "Why's it-who stuck it up there?"

"I don't know," he chuckled. "But, you're the only one brave and small enough to go up there. All you gotta do is plug it in." He makes it sound easy. I rolled my eyes, smiling. "Do you have a new cord?" I pretended like it was such a bother to be helping him. He grinned all cheesy and stupid like. He then darted out of the room. I'm assuming he's getting the cord.

"The printer's over here," Karen said, pointing. I followed her finger and grimaced. That thing is a dinosaur. I walked up to it and stared. I let out a low whistle as I searched for the spot to open it. I found a notch in the side. I put my fingers in it and then popped the lid up, revealing the inner parts of the printer. "It just simply won't print."

"But it has ink?" I asked, eyeing all it's parts. "Uh, yes," she replied. I sighed slipping off my jacket. I put it on the floor next to me and then rolled up my sleeve. I stuck my hand inside of it and dug around. Nothing felt broken. I told it to print something, leaving the lid up so I could watch. Foggy came back a second later holding the cord.

"Got it," he said. I watched the pack of ink sliding across the page intensely. Just when I thought the problem was that it was too old, something caught my eye. I reached back into the printer, staining my hand with ink, then pulled out my findings. "Guys," I said, "this wasn't working because it's full of popcorn."

"What?!" Karen gawked.

"Yeah." I sighed as the others chuckled at my findings. After pulling five pieces of popcorn out of the printer, it finally started printing like it's supposed to. I moved on from that and to plugging in the stupid phone line. It does from the phone on the desk to the printer and then up the wall to the phone jack in the ceiling. Like, really? Who put's it up there?

Karen brought me a two rung step stool, which I was thankfully for. The others went into Foggy's 'office' to speak to a new client while I headed up the ladder. I popped the square panel out of it's socket and then slid it to the side. I was standing on the top rung, then finally found the jack. About ten minutes later Foggy and Matt exited the room.

"Tully's lawyer? Do you know who reps him?" Foggy didn't sound too happy with the plan.

Matt chuckled, collecting his walking stick from the wall. "Yeah, I know."

"Landman and Zack!" I froze when I heard those words. Clint said our elusive Wilson Fisk was connected to them. That they're like the only way we know this guy exists. Karen came out of the room and their discussion continued. Unfortunately, no one said anything of any use to me. I was up as high as I could go, both hands in the ceiling trying to reach the jack, when my phone started ringing.

I sighed and could hear Foggy chuckle. My phone was on the floor in my coat. I heard Karen's heals approach the step stool. "Would you like me to get that for you?" I could hear her smile in her words.

"Yes, please." I was almost to the jack. I heard her wrestle around for the phone. "It says 'Mary'," she said. Great. She shouldn't be calling me. Clint was supposed to stay at my place until she showed up. I sighed, then thrust the cord forward, hearing it finally click into place. I came down the step ladder, my hands covered in dirt.

"Could you please answer it and put it on speaker?" she nodded and did as asked. Mary's voice came from the other end. I don't think she'll say anything too compromising. If we ever talk about my other half it's usually in person. "Hey, what's up?"

"No one's here and I'm locked out," she said. I glanced up and Foggy was passing me a wet rag. I silently thanked him and took it, wiping off my hands. Or at least, trying too.

"What do you mean? I told Clint to wait to leave until you got there." I finished with my hands, then took the phone from Karen. "Thanks," I said as I switched off the speaker. I put the phone to my ear and caught the tail end of what she was saying. "-no one's here."

"Okay, just calm down and I'll be there in a second." She thanked me and then I hung up. I sighed. "Thanks, Karen."

"Sure. Everything okay?"

"No. When I left this morning, I told Clint, my cousin," I glanced at Matt, "to let her in when she came, and to not lock the place and leave before hand."

Foggy nodded. "And he locked the place and left before hand." I nodded.

"Who is she?" Matt asked.

"My sister-in-law. She got kicked out of her apartment, so I said she could live with me," I said. I glanced at my watch. "I better go." I said goodbye to everyone and then practically ran out of the building.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sipped my coffee gingerly with shaky hands. "You look horrible, Fletcher." A dull ebb in my head continued even though I'd taken a Vicodin a little over a half an hour ago. I sighed and looked up. "Gee, thanks, _Parker_ ," I knitted my eyebrows together and Peter adjusted his position in the booth seat across from me. "I said a phone call was fine, I didn't mean for you to drive from Queens."

"Hey, it's not my fault you only decided to tell me about this last night," he held up his hands, and then tucked them under his arms to lean into the table top. "So tell me about your first front page. Why the vigilante theme all of the sudden? Wouldn't you get front page sooner with, like, kittens stuck in trees? Worked for the Bugle."

"I went with vigilantes because that's what's important. There are people out there saving lives, Peter, and no one ever recognizes them. They don't even get so much as a _thank you_ ," I explained, slightly perturbed at the last bit. His lips screwed up to one side as he looked at me, his expression reminiscent of sarcastic confusion. I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Maybe they aren't in the spotlight because they don't want to be?" he suggested, timidly.

"I know this is a sensitive topic for you, Peter. But these guys? They're good people trying to make the world a better place, and they deserve to be noticed," I argued, lightly. "They've done so much to help people already. All everyone seems to think about are the Avengers, no one sees the little guys." He nodded in a knowing way, thinking as he looked down at the newspaper on the table in front of him.

My article was front page. 'The Angel of Hell's Kitchen' was now all over the city. "My boss said to write about things that inspire people," I continued. "So that's what I did." I sipped on my coffee in the brief pause of quiet, looking right out the window at the streets. Watching the cars slowly pass by. Every yellow taxi cab that floated past only reminded me of my almost bitter end. I pulled my eyes from the window and instead decided to look down at my mug.

Peter sighed as his eyes scanned the article. He glanced up at me. "If this kidnapping victim is _you_ , then you saw the Angel you wrote about, right?" I nodded, and he continued. "Do you know who she is, what she looked like?"

"No," I shook my head. "I mean, not really. I couldn't see past the glasses. And the Mask wasn't any less covered identity-wise." As soon as the words left my mouth my eyes were rounded, as were Peter's. His full of excitement and mine full of dread. He turned giddy as he sat up a bit in his seat, leaning closer toward me a little. "You saw the man in the mask? But you only wrote about the one vigilante," he pointed out, excitedly.

"I know. And there's a reason for tha-"

"What was he like? Was he a part of the rescue efforts?"

I sighed. I had to bite my tongue as I reminded myself exactly whose secret I was protecting. I glanced around, keeping my voice down. "Yeah, he helped. But you can't tell anyone I told you this, got it? Protection of sources and all that?" He raised an eyebrow, not understanding why I wouldn't come out with it. But he exhaled, nodding.

"Fine. I won't say anything," he agreed. "Just tell me, why didn't you write about him in your article if he was there? Why give all the credit to that Angel chick?"

"He requested that I didn't mention him," I answered, simply.

"You say it like you held a conversation with the guy."

"Because I did, and it lasted all of three seconds before he disappeared, and that's it, okay?" I sounded harsher than I'd planned, but it got him to stop asking questions. "Sorry. I'm just a little...on edge, since that night."

"Don't apologize, Alison. How have you been doing with the injuries?" he asked, smoothly changing the subject. I've always been thankful for his ability to just forget and act like we didn't just have a certain conversation or say things we didn't mean. It's like a super power, if mild-mannered teenagers could have super powers. "Fine, I guess," I nodded a little, softening myself. "It still hurts when I breathe."

"Geez...do you need help watching the little guy?" He jutted a thumb to his right, and I looked at Chase, drawing in the booth directly on the other side of the aisle. I turned back to Peter and shook my head. "No, thank you. We're gonna head out and look at some buildings after this."

"Buildings?" he chuckled. "For what?"

"I don't plan on working two jobs forever. I've been trying to find a lucrative job that doesn't mean spending all day and night away from the apartment. It's not a perfect plan, but I have some ideas. Right now we're just looking," I explained.

"And how do you have the money for real estate?" His eyebrows rose up simultaneously as he looked at me from my article. He asked it as if he couldn't imagine me having money. Truth is, I can't either. "My aunt passed away. Apparently she left a little more than half of all her money to me, along with the earnings from her art collection," I answered. I shoved my hand into my coat pocket and dug around. My fingers gripped the folded check buried deep inside.

I pulled it out and unfolded the paper on the table in front of Peter. His eyes widened and his lips shriveled into a surprised 'O' shape. "Wow. That is a lot of zeros," he commented, sitting back in his side of the booth. I nodded, still a little surprised myself. It didn't make sense to me why she gave me so much money. We were close, but not the give-all-your-fortunes-away-in-the-will close. And yet, here I was with a check filled with digits. A thought came to mind and I quickly checked my watch.

It was eleven. Great. "Oh no. We have to go," I put my coffee down and started sliding out of the booth. "Chase, start getting your pencils rounded up, okay?" Chase nodded quickly and his hands flew across his drawings, grabbing fistfuls of pencils and shoving them into his backpack. I turned back toward Peter and smiled without teeth. "Sorry I have to cut this short," I apologized.

Peter slid out of the booth and stood, waving it off. "That's okay. I should probably get back home anyways—Aunt May is going to have my head. It was good seeing you, Aly. We have to get together again sometime."

"Yeah, definitely. Check our schedules, I guess?" I shrugged one-shouldered and he smiled, then opened his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck in a hug and I made myself exhale. "Try not to get kidnapped again, okay?" he teased.

I chuckled a little, stepping back. "And _you_ try not to get expelled."

"It was one time, okay? And it wasn't even my fault, it was-"

"Bugman?" I finished, with a knowing smile. Peter gave me a look, his shoulders dropping, and I laughed. He tried to correct me, "It's Spi-"

"I'm ready to go!" Chase interrupted, bolting out of his booth. He adjusted his back pack on his shoulders and I took his hand. I looked up at Peter. "Good luck," I smiled, ushering Chase toward the door. Half way to the door, Peter waved back calling, "Stay safe out there!" I pulled the door open and held it as Chase stepped out, waving to Peter with my free hand. Chase tugged me out onto the sidewalk with him and we were off. I'd spent longer talking to Peter than I'd wanted.

But at least now we were on our way to the first potential buy. I was in no shape to walk the whole way there and it definitely wasn't safe for neither me nor Chase, so we took my car. It wasn't long to the first address. The building looked weathered as I parked along the sidewalk. "Is this it?" Chase asked, from the backseat. "It's a dump!"

"It's in our price range. Keep an open mind, okay? And no comments like that in front of the real estate agent," I twisted a little to see him between the seats. He nodded, but still looked uncertain of the building as he unclipped his seatbelt. I turned forward and dropped down my overhead mirror. I'd covered up what bruises I could with makeup this morning. Though there was still plenty visible, I would just have to think of an excuse. Maybe the realtor wouldn't even notice?

Oh well, I guess. Nothing I can do about it now. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid out of the car. Chase quickly followed behind and I locked the car before turning to face the building behind me. Chase was right. It was kind of a dump. The front wall of the place was practically all window, which gave it a good view. The front door looked like rot iron. But the whole place from the outside just looked dirty. "Hand," I said, looking down at Chase.

He slid his hand in mine, still staring at the building, and I tugged him along to walk to the realtor. She stood by her car a few yards down the sidewalk from mine. "Hi there!" she said, finally noticing I'd even pulled up. Her blonde bob looked overly sprayed and she wore dangerous looking heels with a pencil skirt. Why was she in real estate? I shook the thought from my mind and smiled as brightly as I could. "I'm Louise," she smiled back, holding out her hand.

I shook her hand politely, noticing her incredibly bright nails. "Alison. We spoke on the phone?"

"Yes we did! Now, I know this place looks bad right now, but it's in your price range and it would make a great project build for someone willing," she gushed, gesturing for the door. "Shall we?" I nodded and she led the way to the door. She fumbled with her keys a moment, but managed to open it. Inside looked worse than the outside. It was a large, wide open room with windows lining the right wall. Cement floors, wood panel walls.

I noticed a counter of some sort in the far left corner. It was rounded with an opened walk through spot near the left wall. I'd missed most of what Louise had said, but I caught the tail end. "...I think it was a fire or something. But that wouldn't be hard to fix," she said.

"Sorry, how much footage is it?" I inquired.

"Two-thousand square feet, including the second level," she answered. I nodded, thinking. The walls were all damp-looking and dirty, with missing pieces here and there, and the floor looked uneven. It would take a lot of repairing if I chose this, and this is just the first level. Louise continued on her spiel about the building. "The electricity doesn't work quite right yet—there are a few bugs. But the water is all established and the pipes work great. Would you like to see the upstairs?"

"Sure," I nodded, smiling without teeth. Louise instantly started for a hallway to the left of the door, leading toward the back wall of the building. Chase followed first, pulling away from me, and I sighed, following behind. The hallway hid a staircase going to the upstairs. I took the steps two at a time to keep up with Chase. I wanted to keep my eye on him at all times. The thought of possibilities if I lost him made my head hurt.

Right from the stairs is a small living/kitchen area. Turn right and there's an open door to what looks like a bedroom. Another two closed doors are along the same wall to the left of bedroom one. It was small, but seemed homier than my apartment. The gray carpeting looked eaten by mice or some kind of rodent and the kitchen appliances looked shot. I peered in the fridge and then looked at the stove. "How many bedrooms?" I asked, drawing a blank in my mind.

Chase poked his head into each room as Louise responded. "Two bedroom, one bath," she answered, standing by the stairs. "There's an attic with a lot of storage space, as well." I took my time examining the first bedroom. It looked like the master bedroom, closest to the stairs. There was a closest with ample space to the left and a window straight forward from the door. I didn't even know what to think about the bathroom. It was pitiful to say the least.

The toilet was rusted and would definitely need replacing. The sink and counters looked usable, but the shower would need an overhaul. I inhaled, counting up all the repair costs in my head. It was painful to think about. But there was a lot of money from my aunt. It would cover it, right? And I'm still working. So I have three sources of income at the moment. Maybe this was doable. Just maybe. "MOM," Chase suddenly appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, cutting off my thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"I like _this_ place," he announced.

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was a _dump_?"

"It is. But this place is perfect. There so much space! AND NO SHARED WALLS, MOM," he grabbed my arm and shook it a little to emphasize. I grabbed his hand and he stopped. The action had jarred my head a bit, causing a mild head ache to ensue, but I swallowed it down. "Okay, I hear you," I assured him. "It's a lot to think about."

"The realtor said there was already an offer! If we want it, we have to make our move!"

I sighed. The idea gnawed at me as I bit my lower lip lightly, thinking hard. This was a lot more space than we usually got. And we would own it outright. No more rent bills, no leases, no super intendants that charge you extra for stupid stuff. I could fix the problems with time, I know that. I inhaled and walked out to the real estate agent, still standing by the stairs. She smiled. "So, what do you think?" she asked, brightly.

Forcing the words past my lips, I answered, "I'll take it."

My moment of insanity was not short lived. The owner of the building accepted my offer. But the next problem was sorting through all the papers for the utilities, repairs, and all the paperwork involved in the sale. It kept me busy late at my apartment. Chase had gone to bed seconds before I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Alison."

A small gasp escaped me as I startled to the side, my eyes snapping up and to the left. I sighed in slight annoyance when I saw Matt, dressed in his Mask attire, sitting outside my now opened window. I quickly looked down the hallway. Nothing. "Come in," I said, turning back to see Matt. He climbed in the window and walked over to me, stopping just before the coffee table. He held out a cell phone in my general direction. "Can you look at this for me?" he asked.

"Um...sure," I raised an eyebrow, hesitantly taking the phone. I instantly noticed it wasn't the phone I put Angel's number into. It was different. I glanced up. "Who's is this?"

"It was a cop's," he replied, casually, like it was nothing.

My eyes widened. "You stole a cop's cell phone? Why?"

"He was dirty. It was buzzing. Are there any messages?" He changed the subject with ease and I sighed, looking back down at the phone. I scrolled through to the message section and shook my head. "No...but there's a text message," I said, squinting to read. " _47_ _th_ _and 12_ _th_ _, 48_ _th_ _and 9_ _th_ _, 42_ _nd_ _and 10_ _th_ _, 44_ _th_ _and 11_ _th_." I read the locations aloud, feeling a bit odd. Who would send these? Maybe it was a code? Matt seemed intrigued by the last address. "Forty-fourth and eleventh?" he paused. "Troika Restaurant. The addresses—they're listing where the Russians are."

He turned and started for the window, and I stood as quickly as my body would allow me. "Matt, hold on," he stopped slowly at my words, turning half way toward me near the window. "What are you gonna do? Knock on each of these doors and ask for the Russian mob leader?"

"I'll do whatever is necessary," he corrected.

I crossed my arms. "You know what that sounds like? That sounds like you're going to get bloody and beaten again."

"What am I supposed to do, Alison?" he asked, sounding exasperated. He turned to face me fully, taking a step. "No one is going to stop them if I don't try. After what they did to you...they need to go down before anyone else gets hurt."

"What happened to me happened, Matt. I told you it wasn't your fault," I reminded.

"Yeah, well, that doesn't make it so, does it?" he snapped a bit. I took a deep breath to calm myself, to keep me from saying something both of us will regret later on. But worry gripped my throat and pressed on my chest, making it hard to breathe correctly. "You could die going alone," I pointed out, gently.

"I won't go alone. I'm calling Angel for backup."

"What if she doesn't show?"

"She'll show."

" _What if she doesn't_?"

"I don't know! I'll do it alone. I'm not standing by while the Russians hurt more innocent people," he snapped, raising his voice. "I'm sorry, Alison, but I have to do this. I'm going with or without your approval." I knew he wasn't going to stand by. I didn't want that, per say. I just wanted him not dead. Preferably in one piece. I stepped around the table and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly.

"Just promise me you'll try not to die, _please_?" I pressed, momentarily closing my eyes. "That's _all_ I want."

His arms slowly found their way around my middle to return the hug, being hesitant. "I promise," he agreed, quietly. I nodded and took a step back. His face looked softer than before, but he still looked ready for war. "Then go," gestured toward the window. "And I guess I'll be here when you need patched up."

"Thank you, Alison." He headed the rest of the way toward the open window and slid out, vanishing into the night air. I closed the window behind him with a sigh. That man had a death wish. It probably wasn't smart to care about him at all. But detaching myself now would be too little too late, and I have my money on the dark horse.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I carried the last box through the front door, dropping it with the others when I walked in. "This better be it, Mare!" I hollered. "My place can't hold anymore stuff." My sister-in-law, Mary, walked out of the guest room. She looked tired from a long day of moving her whole life out of her old apartment and into mine.

"I know," she sighed. "As soon as I can, I'll rent a storage unit." She glanced around, debating on whether or not to keep talking. She put her hand on her hip and then looked up at me. "Most of it's Andy's," she spoke lightly, almost whispering. "I just…can't bear to part with it, you know? At least, not now."

"I know," the words almost got stuck in my throat. I sniffled back the emotions I felt coming on, then closed the door with my foot. "You don't need a unit. Just stick it all in the room across the hall. It's not livable, right now, but it can hold stuff."

"Thanks," she nodded, smiling. Mary and I have always been close. But Andy's death brought us even closer together. She turned and walked back into the guest room, her room. The faint sound of a rattle filled my ears. I smiled, turning my attention to the cradle in the middle of the room. I walked up to it and then looked inside.

My six month old niece lay inside, dressed in the pink striped PJ jacket and pants that I got her when she was born. Took a while to fit, but it's the cutest outfit on her. "Hey, Lizzie," I whispered. She smiled, shaking her brown bear around. "Oh!" Mary pocked her head out of the room, as I glanced up. "Something in your desk has been buzzing."

"For how long?"

"Just since you went down last." She disappeared again. The only thing in that desk that could buzz would be Angel's phone. My heart rate quickened as I trotted over to the desk. I ripped the drawer open and pulled out the phone. I flipped it open and found one missed call. I swore under my breath as I put the phone to my ear to listen to the voicemail. "Angel, I need your help," I recognized the Mask's voice and stood up a little straighter, "47th and 12th." The message ended. That's it? Why does he need my help? What is going on?

The ground shook as an enormous sound filled my ears. I jumped and spun to look out the window. A second later, the same sound happened again. But this one was louder. I could just barely make out a fire ball filling the night sky, beyond the building across the street. Oh my goodness. So, that's what's going on.

I heard scuffling behind me as Mary's voice filled my ears. "What is going on?"

"Someone just started a war I won't let them finish."


	12. Condemned

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I ran as fast as I could and jumped. Just barely clearing the eight foot gap between buildings. I rolled as soon as my feet hit the roof, then got to my feet and kept running. Thanks to trying to keep up with the Mask, I've gotten a lot better at that. About ten minutes ago, four explosions rocked Hell's Kitchen.

Unfortunately, the Mask got himself wrapped up in whatever's going on. So far, there's no sign of him. But there are too many cops roaming the streets. The odds of them finding him first are much greater. I picked up the pace, ten feet from the edge. I jumped, cleared it, rolled and then continued running. I was half way across the roof when I heard a gunshot.

It sounded like it came from up a head. I slowed the closer I got to the edge, as police lights started to come into view. I walked the last foot, and then peaked over the ledge of the roof. Two cop cars sat in the alley. All the cops on the ground accept one. He was standing and speaking into his radio. "Shots fired! Two suspects on foot!"

I went on alert at his words. That could be him. But if it is the Mask, then what is this whole thing about? Who knows if he's even still alive? The whole town just got blown up, so why am I looking for a vigilante? I should be trying to help people. I sigh at myself for feeling so conflicted. I debated for a second as I crouched down. He'd do the same thing for me, right? But why should _that_ matter? Mask or no mask, he's still a human who needs saving.

I nod to myself and then look for the closest roof top. Save the Mask, then the city. Priority is everything. Problem is, there isn't a roof within jumping distance. I hang around the roof a minute later, waiting for the cop to leave. But he never did. I sigh in annoyance. I'm not as light on my feet as some other vigilantes. But I can't wait any longer. I walk to the edge farthest away from the cop and look over it.

This will have to do. I climb onto the ledge, swinging my legs over. I grab hold of the old gutter and then start to shimmy down it. I forced most of my weight into the building so the gutter wouldn't break on my. I made it to the bottom without dying. I exhaled, glad that was over. I walked around the building and then peered around the corner. The cop passed in front of his cruiser.

I can't get caught. Then see me, it's over. I wait 'til he's not looking and then run in the opposite direction. I ran around one of the warehouses that exploded and into an alley. I walked to the end and then turned right. I have no idea where I'm going. I've gotten lost going back to my apartment, how am I supposed to find him in this disaster.

I walked around another corner…and into a cop.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I just finished adding up the repair costs for the second floor of the building I purchased when my cell phone suddenly started buzzing on the coffee table beside my papers. I glanced at it. Urich's icon and number occupied the screen. It seemed odd for him to be calling me so late. Maybe it was an emergency? Just in case, I quickly picked up the phone and answered, "Hello?"

"Alison, where are you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "My apartment. Ben, is everything alright?"

"Have you seen the news? Hell's Kitchen literally just exploded. There are at least four bombing locations-" The rest of his words tuned out for a moment as my eyes widened. Four locations. Matt came by earlier with a cell phone, and in it were four locations all controlled by the Russians. Oh no. "...wanted to get a hold of you and make sure you were safe." I only caught he last bit of what he'd said, but I tried to act like I heard everything.

"Thanks, we're okay here. Do the police know who planted the bombs?" I asked, worried.

"Not that I know of. But every location was owned by the Russian mob. I know this ties into it, I just haven't figured out how yet," he answered, sounding like he was in thought as he did. "I'm driving there now. I'll call you when I have more information, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks." His end went dead and I immediately hung up the phone, sliding it into my pocket. I pulled on my coat by the door and hurried into Chase's room. He was sound asleep in his bed, looking peaceful. I didn't want to wake him but I had no choice. "Chase," I stepped over to his bedside and gentle shook his shoulders. "Chase, honey, wake up."

He stirred and his eyes opened to slits. "Mom? What's wrong?" he asked, before letting out a long yawn.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just going to take you to Dani's for a little while, okay? I need to run an errand and I don't want you here alone. Come on," he pushed back his covers and I helped his half asleep form out of bed. He was wearing his pajamas but there was no time for an outfit change. I pulled his coat around his shoulders as he teetered, standing by the front door. "Where are you going?" he asked, murmuring a bit.

"To the store," I lied. "I'll just be a minute, I promise."

I bent down and wrapped my arms around his middle, then hefted him up onto my hip. His arms wound around me as I backed out of the apartment. As always, I made sure to lock it tight before even attempting the stairs. Thankfully for my sake Chase was too tired at the moment to ask many questions. I knew he'd wake up the second after I was gone. But this was something I needed to do. I carried Chase across the street to Dani's apartment building.

I rapped my knuckles on her door and stepped back to wait. Surely she'd be here. It was too late for her to be out on a case, right? Unless she typically pulled all-nighters. I sighed a little, looking down the hall. Just then, the door suddenly unlocked and pulled open. A woman I didn't recognize was standing in the door way. "Hi...um, my name is Alison Fletcher, I live across the street. Is Dani here?" I asked.

"No, I'm sorry. She had to run out," she apologized.

"It's just, Dani usually watches my son, and I really need to-"

"I can watch him until she gets back," the woman interrupted, politely. I sighed in relief and Chase perked up a bit, twisting in my arms to see the woman. "Who are you?" he asked. I lowered him down and he touched the floor, coming out of his stupor. "My name is Mary. I'm Dani's sister-in-law," she introduced herself.

"This is Chase," I put my hands on Chase's shoulders, smiling politely.

"Come on in, Chase," Mary gestured, stepping aside.

"Thank you so much. I won't be long," I assured.

"Take all the time you need," she waved it away. I nodded and hurried across the street to my car, diving into the driver's seat. As if my night couldn't get any worse than seeing Matt off to war. I threw the car in drive and stepped on the gas.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I tried to get away from him but there was no point. He had his gun on me too fast. I stood in the alley, red and blue lights flashing across my face while I held my hands above my head. "Officer, look at me," I said. "I'm one of the good guys." His grip was still firm on his gun, fear and confusion on his face.

"I said don't move!" he yelled. He's too far away to knock the gun out of his hands without getting shot in the process. And even if I could, that'd make me the bad guy.

"That includes breathing?" I sighed as he reached for his radio. "No!" He quickly put both hands on his gun again, yelling at me to get on my knees. What am I going to do? There are several ways out of this but most of them end with a bullet in me. If I get shot I'm no good to anyone. He yelled again. I shook my head. "No! Shoot me if you want, but you'll be wasting your bullets. I'm on your side!"

He didn't lower the gun. But he looked at me differently now. He raised an eyebrow, and then sighed. Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes. That must be some conversation he's having with himself. "You must be the so called 'Angel of Hell's Kitchen'." He almost spit out the words.

"So, you _do_ read the papers."

"But that doesn't mean I believe it. Those were the words of one person, an unnamed source, I don't even know. I don't care how many people you've saved."

"The article is true, the things it says. All of it is true. This isn't the first city I've been too, and it probably won't be the last. Look, I don't know what's going on. But, just like you, those bombs have put people I care about at risk. That's why I'm out here, not only to help people, but to help someone I care about. I'm on your side. Why do you think I haven't tried to get away?" I knew he wouldn't reply, but his face told me he was thinking about it. "You could've shot me, still can. You could've called for backup, still can. Now ask yourself why you haven't."

"I don't know, let me ask myself while I continue to point this gun at you," he said. I sighed. I don't have time for this. He moved just slightly, the lights from his cruiser bouncing off his name tag. This is the cop Foggy and Matt trust. The one they know for sure is not corrupt. Okay, I can't wait any longer. How badly do I not want to get shot?

"I'm sorry, I can't wait," I said. "Someone needs my help. You can either help me find him, or I can do it alone. Either way, I'm leaving." I slowly started backing up.

"Don't move!"

"Go ahead and shoot me, Mahoney. What's it going to prove, that you can't tell good from bad? I'm an 'angel' remember? Do you really think a bullet will stop me?" I stared into his eyes. For a split second I thought he'd pull the trigger. But he didn't. A switch flipped behind his eyes. He slowly lowered the gun slightly. I just as slowly lowered my hands.

"Fine," he said, "tonight you get a pass. But don't expect that I won't shoot you next time." I nodded, shrugging.

"Next time, I won't get caught." He slightly chuckled and dropped his gun to his side. He looked back down the alley behind him, and then at me, "Who are you looking for?"

"You just have to remember that tonight's a truce." He instantly gave me 'the look'. The one that told me he knew exactly who I was referring to.

"No. No. Are you serious? You try to convince me you're on our side, even though you came out here looking for the man in the mask?"

"I know what it sounds like. He and I have to different methods. Night and Day, okay? But, he's in trouble. I think your boys in blue are after him."

"Why should I help you, help him?"

"Because that same article that talked about me? He was there, too. Just omitted from the story, look…just forget it, I'll find him myself."

"Wait," he sighed. "We've cordoned off the whole area. He's somewhere on 12th. But the others won't listen to you if they catch you." I nodded my thanks as I reached down to the holster on my left hip and pulled out one of the new toys Clint brought me. I launched the grappling hook up onto the roof. I pressed the button on the side and let it pull me up.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I drove as fast as I could down the street. It was probably a media circus right now. Honestly, who blows up a city in the middle of the night? I lurched at the sound of my cell buzzing in the cup holder between the seats. My eyes flickered to it, then up to the road, and back again. I debated even bothering to see who was calling. My hand quickly dove for the phone and I answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey, Alison," My whole body relaxed a little upon hearing Matt's voice. "Are you busy?" I used my free hand to steer the car to the side of the road. I pulled up along the sidewalk and cut the engine, then spoke into the phone. "Matt, do you have any idea how freaked out I am right now? Are you at least out of the bombs?" I questioned, my heart racing.

" _Now_. Not so much fifteen minutes ago," he said. I exhaled, closing my eyes. "Listen, Alison, I need your help. I found someone who has intel on what I've been looking for but he's been shot." I inhaled, twisting to glance around the street. It was completely dead. I turned into the phone. "Why don't you call the police? Or a _real_ doctor?" I asked.

"The police are the ones that shot him," Matt replied, flatly.

"So, what, I'm supposed to _find_ you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I want you to walk me through stabilizing him," he corrected. "And, there's something you should know...the guy I'm trying to save...it's Vladimir, he runs the Russian mob." I laughed a little at his words, then the bitterness soaked in and I shook my head, turning to look out the window. "I know what I'm asking you to do, but he's important. What he knows could bring down Fisk and stop more innocent people like you from getting hurt."

I sighed. "Is there an exit wound?"

"Thank you, Alison," there was a short pause. "Uh, no. The bullet's still inside him. It's still half a degree hotter than the surrounding tissue."

"You wouldn't happen to have a first aid kit, would you?" I asked, semi-hopeful.

"I'm in an abandoned warehouse. There's not much in the way of medicine. There's half a box of nails...broken glass...uh, wood, duct tape, old roadside emergency kit, lot of plastic sheeting..."

I adjusted in my seat, moving the phone to my other ear. I tried to picture the scenario in my head. "The emergency kit. Look in it, tell me if there are any flares," I instructed. There was another short pause. "Yeah, two," he replied. The easiest way to stop the bleeding would be to close the wound. Since there's no sewing kit, or even anything remotely related to it, he's going to have to cauterize.

There was a shuffle, and I heard footsteps on his end. "You need to stop the bleeding. Quickest way to do that is to cauterize the wound," I said, into the phone.

"Shouldn't I dig the bullet out first?" he asked.

"No! No, bad idea. You cut him open and dig around and he'll be dead in a couple minutes," I shook my head. "This way is better. It'll hopefully keep him from bleeding out so you can get what you need." There was a second of quiet. Then he said, "Alright, how do I do this?"

"Listen closely. Light the flare and hold the flame close to the skin until the wound is sealed. Now, Matt, it's going to hurt- he's going to scream. But you can't stop until it's completely sealed or this'll be for nothing, okay?" I conveyed, trying to keep my voice calm.

"Okay, I got it. I'm gonna put you on speaker." Oh, great. Just what I needed. Part of me felt like I was going to enjoy the next two to three minutes. But the rest said I needed ear plugs and a bottle of vodka. I was able to hear two clicks and a loud hissing as he lit the flare. "Alright...cauterizing the wound..." Matt sounded like he was a surgical assistant. In a way, he kind of was at the moment. Next, screams filtered loudly through the phone speaker.

A second after it started it got muffled, but I could still hear it loud and clear. My head started to throb so I pulled the phone away from my ear. After a minute the screams stopped and I moved the phone back up to my ear. "Matt, did it stop the bleeding?" I asked. There was nothing but silence on the other end. My pulse started in faster again as I sat upright in my seat. "Thanks, Alison, I've gotta go," with that, his end went dead.

"Matt? Matt!"

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

My pocket started buzzing, half way across another roof. An army of police cars came barreling around the corner. I quickly ducked, slamming into one of the stone ledges. My left shoulder ached from hitting the wall, but I ignored it and pulled out my ear piece. I put it into my ear and then answered the call. "This better be an emergency."

"It is," Chase said on the other end. I sighed heavily and then glanced over the edge, working my way up to my feet. "Why are you calling me?" I asked. "Where's your mom?"

"She's out covering the story," he said…like I should've known. I grumbled under my breath. "I'm at Dani's. Just listen to me. I found an old police scanner and turned it on. I don't know where you are but you need to hear what I heard." I rolled my eyes and kept moving. "Abandoned building, 47th and 12th, second floor." I stop, almost toppling forward. My heart beat sped up. That's literally around the corner.

"What's there, Chase?" I tried to catch my breath, but it wasn't working. I've run more today than I have I my entire life. "Uh…they said…?" He thought aloud, trying to remember. "Perp in mask!" I instantly turned on my heal and ran to the edge of the roof. I jumped over the edge, landing on the fire escape, and then hurrying down it. "They also said something about…oh, I don't know. It meant a lot of cops will be there."

I jumped the last ten feet and then darted across the street to the other side. I ran up a large stack of crates, pulling out the grappling hook and soon as I got to the top. I launched myself off as the hook latched onto a water tower on top of the adjacent building. I swung across the alley, landing on the roof with the water tower. My foot slipped when I landed, causing the grappling hook to slip out of my hand.

Somehow, what remained of the cord got wrapped around my foot. It dragged me the remaining ten feet to the tower and up one of its legs. My head smacked against its concrete base as It pulled me up. All the blood rushed to my head as it throbbed, almost pulsing. "Angel! What happened?!" Chase yelled.

I winced at the sound. "Not so loud," I complained.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I groaned, bending my left leg closer to me. I reached in my boot and pulled out my knife. I put my hands above my head and then thrust them foreword, using them as leverage. I latched onto the bar, now able to put my left foot on the ground. "I bet this never happens to any of the _Avengers_ ," I whispered, half mocking myself. "Chase, can you please hand the phone to an adult?"

I began sawing through the steel cord, as I heard scuffling on the other end of the phone. "Hello?" Mary's voice came on a second later. The cord snapped and I groaned as my leg dropped to the ground. "It's me, Mare," I sighed. Blood trickled down the side of my face from a cut near my right temple, where my head hit the concrete. "I need a favor. Oh, and the kid doesn't know who I am."

"Okay. What favor?" She played along, but I could hear her voice shaking.

"Go to the desk in my office. Turn on the computer. Bottom left hand corner, you'll see a small pixel-type spacecraft. It'll look like an icon for a game." I put what remained of the grappling hook back in its holster, as I walked to the side of the roof. I looked over the edge. Cops everywhere. And just when I think it can't get worse, a helicopter appears.

"Okay, found it." I ducked, hiding in the shadows as the spot light from the helicopter buzzed over me. "Click on it," I said.

"What is this?"

"The…surveillance system on a satellite I sort of…stole," I confessed. She began to protest when Chase cut her off. He screamed about how 'cool' it was. Then a thought popped into my head. "Hand the phone back to Chase."

"Yo," he said, "this is sweet!"

"Yeah, I know. Look, it's just another video game…only it's real life. Type in my address and then turn on the infrared." I told him my address to the best of my abilities. This kid is smarter than I thought. He not only turned on the infrared, but he found me on the roof top. "What does it look like out there?"

"Wait. I think I need a code name, if we're taking this rescue mission any further."

"Chase, I don't have time for this. I'm in the battle field of one of _your_ games, remember?"

"Yeah, sorry." I heard a few clicks. "Okay, we got ten bogies surrounding the place. And four mutts. Looks like three men inside the building everyone's pointing at."

"Okay, thanks. Now, find me a way in."

"Just a sec," he mumbled. I can just picture him drooling all over my keyboard. "Okay. Do everything I say, _when_ I say it, and you might just live." I sigh. "Go to your right, leave the roof." I stayed crouched, but got to my feet. I hurried to the edge of the roof and then ducked again.

"What's on the ground below?" I huffed.

"A dump truck, why?" he asked. I quickly rolled over the edge and free fell into the back of the truck below. Thankfully, the landing wasn't too hard. I waded through the trash, to the side. I pushed myself up and over the edge. I landed soundly, but tucked and rolled under the truck when a cop walked by. "Hello, eyes and ears?"

"Sorry. You're clear. Go to the edge of the building." I rolled out from under the truck and followed Chase's orders. "To your left there's a cop car. Shoot it." That won't cause a panic. I reached down to my right hip's holster and pulled out the _one_ thing Clint gave me that _won't_ bite me in the butt. My bow was folded down, making it only ten inches long.

My hand latched onto its grip. I flicked my wrist foreword and the bow expanded to full size. I slid an arrow into place, then leaned around the corner just far enough to see my target. I ran across the street the second that arrow left my bow. The cops flocked the car and paid no attention to me. "Good. Now walk to the end of the alley. There should be a door on your right."

Sure enough, there was. I opened the door, pulling back another arrow as I walked inside. I slowly let the door fall closed behind me as I examined the building. Definitely abandoned. Some strange sounds from above caught my attention. "Thanks for the help, Chase," I whispered. "But, I gotta go."

"Wait! You should know, there's a tunnel on the bottom floor that leads out of ther-" I ended the call. The sounds grew louder. It has to be the Mask. In a second the ceiling above me caved with an enormous crash. I quickly dove to the side as whatever it was flew past me and through the floor, causing another crash. A third crash rang out as the object hit the basement floor.

Dust filled the air, causing me to cough. I retrieved my bow and then got to my feet. I swatted the dust cloud as I walked to the hole. The Mask laid at the bottom, a man at his side. Neither one of them was moving. No. Don't tell me after all of that, I was too late.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I pulled up along the sidewalk behind Ben's car at 47th and 12th, just as a news van from WVHiH parked on the opposite side. Their news crew leapt from the van and I paused, watching. My mind filtered back to just a couple nights ago, when I was being pulled into a black van, one that looked reminiscent of that one. I shook the thoughts from my head and pushed out of the car. I let the door fall closed as I started for Ben center street.

He was standing in front of two detectives, also watching the news crew set up. He noticed me coming when I was a few feet away. He sighed, shaking his head. "Alison, what are you doing here?" he asked, sounding more concerned than anything. I stopped a foot from him. I was about to answer when one of the detectives interrupted. "Oh, great. He's got a sidekick," he sighed.

I ignored the comment and kept my eyes on Ben. "Like I'm gonna miss this for a few bruised ribs."

"A _few_ bruised ribs? You look like you've been used as a human punching bag," Ben pointed out, his eyes scrutinizing my face. A crude and humorless chuckle caught my attention and I glanced right. The detective that had commented on my arrival seemed to recognize me. He walked forward and stood a foot to the right of Urich. "You're the one who wrote that article—' _The Angel of Hell's Kitchen'_? What is it with you reporters and sticking your nose in stuff no one cares about?"

"What is it with cops—I'm sorry— _detectives_ and harassing innocent citizens? Tell me something, do they pay you extra for using a yard stick?" I asked, spitefully stoic.

"Innocent citizens, huh? Right. Why don't you stick to writing about vigilantes behind a desk?" The detectives turned and started back for the warehouse. "Be careful, Detective," I warned, causing them to stop and turn. "You two might just end up in one of my articles."

The detective held up his hands in a sarcastic shrug. "The night's young. You never know what might happen." I sighed in annoyance and turned back toward Ben. He was watching me with an amused expression. I smiled a little. "What?" I asked, curiously.

"Nothing," he shook his head. I almost detected a hint of pride behind his eyes. Just then, my cell phone started buzzing. Hoping it would be Matt, I nearly ripped my pocket open fumbling the phone out and to my ear. "Hello?" I answered, quickly.

A feminine sigh of relief came through the line. "Thank goodness. Alison, are you and Chase okay?" I recognized the voice as Karen's. I glanced up at Urich and he nodded, so I stepped away, walking toward my car a bit before speaking. "Yeah, we're fine. How are _you_? Have you heard from Dani or Foggy?" I asked, stopping a foot from my bumper.

"I'm okay. I don't know where Dani is—she's not picking up. Foggy's with me, he's- he's in the hospital," she informed, her voice shaken. My chest instantly tightened and knotted in worry. "We were with a client when one of the explosions went off. He took some glass to the side." Oh no. Not Foggy. I closed my eyes and inhaled a breath, then exhaled as I reopened them. "Okay. I'll be there in five minutes or less, alright?" I said, turning toward the building.

"Okay...yeah, okay. See you when you get here?"

"See you then." I ended the call and slid my phone away, keeping my eyes on the building. Matt was in there. Cops were swarming the place, so it wasn't like he was going anywhere anytime soon. Foggy was in the hospital. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon either but he was wounded. And Foggy...I just need to go be with him. _Sorry, Matt_.


	13. The Lucky One

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

My feet hit the ground and I instantly got down next to the Mask. I put my hand on his shoulder and shook him. "Hey, Mask, it's Angel. You gotta get up." The other guy started to stir. He looks hurt so I don't think I have to worry about him. I shook a little harder, afraid he wouldn't wake up. "Mask!" He took a breath and I sighed with relief.

He slowly started moving, coughing and drooling blood. He was in the push up position, slowly pushing himself up. "Easy," I said. He moaned a few times but eventually got himself up. He sat back, on his heels and looked at me. "What took you so long?" He was breathing heavily, wiping blood from his mouth. He half grinned, but I already knew he was being sarcastic.

"You're a hard man to find," I said. "But, believe it or not, that was the easy part. No way are we getting out the way we came in." He nodded in agreement. He spit out some blood, then looked at the other guy. "That wasn't very smart," he said.

"But it was fun…" the guy mumbled, "watching you _bleed._ " Well. I know what side of this _he's_ on. I looked at the Mask, then back at the guy. I recognized the tattoo on his hand. Russian guy, probably the leader of the mob around here. Which means he's the same guy who wanted Alison, or whoever it was who helped the Mask, kidnapped and tortured. That would also explain why the Mask's held up in an abandoned building with him, surrounded by cops.

I looked at the Mask. "Are you okay?" He nodded. Then he froze, slightly tilting his head. Great. Now what? He came out of his trance and jumped on top of the Russian, starting CPR. "His heart stopped," the Mask said. I stood, not knowing what to do. The Mask viscously pushed on the guy's chest, but nothing was happening. "Come on. I'm not done with you yet." He quit pushing on his chest. Instead, he locked his fingers into a fist and then pounded his chest. After the third hit, the guy gasped for air.

He started coughing as the Mask got off of him. "What…?" he gasped.

"You died. I brought you back." The Mask sat next to him, heaving himself. Grunting, the Mask stood. "You lied, huh?" the Russian said. "You can't even stand there and let me die." So…the Mask is going soft on me, or he hasn't gotten any intel. Either way, we don't have much time. "No," the Mask walked a few feet away. "Not until you give me what I need off Fisk."

What? That's what this is all about? When did he learn- how did he learn about Fisk's involvement? Maybe he doesn't know the full extent to which Fisk is involved. If he did, why would he be beating up a Russian? There are easier ways to learn what we need to. But, he wouldn't know this, since he doesn't _know_ anything about me. "Obviously, we need to communicate more."

The Mask turned around and looked at me questioningly. "We've both been going after Fisk, but from two different angles," I clarified. He looked shocked that I knew who he was talking about, and that I'd been trying to get him too. The Russian guy turned to look at me, "Who are you supposed to be?" This time, I heard enough of his accent to know it was Russian.

"I'd explain it to you, but I'm all out of puppets and crayons," I said. The Mask chuckled, as he began looking for a way out. "Apparently there's a tunnel that leads out of here." That caught the Mask attention. He turned toward me, then stopped. He froze and tilted his head again, staring at a spot past me. See. I didn't need Chase to tell me where it was. Bat Boy will figure it out.

He snapped out of it and walked across the room, past me and to the other side. He got up on top of a pile of wood and started pushing it all to the side. I take it he found it. A second later, a wooden chair flew past me. I walked over to him as he'd just finished unburying a manhole cover. He tried to pull the cover off with no success. The thing didn't even budge.

Static from a radio started echoing through the room. "I'd like to speak to the man in the mask, please." It was a man's voice coming from the radio. We both froze. The Mask looked up at me, then stood and walked across the room. "Hello." He bent down, pushing a board out of his way, revealing the radio. He picked it up, then turned to me. "Are you there? Can you hear me?"

The Mask put the radio up to his mouth. "Who is this?"

"I think you know," the voice said. "You've been asking about me. I thought it was time we spoke." Of course it's Fisk. He's the one behind all of this. Why _wouldn't_ he want to rub it in? Especially since he thinks we won't make it out of here alive. "You and I have a lot in common."

"We're nothing alike."

"That's what you'll tell yourself."

"You're feeding off this city. Like a cancer," the Mask said. I shook my head. Fisk is playing him. Trying to get into his head. To make himself feel better, Fisk needs to first convince the Mask that everything he's done has been for nothing…that Fisk won. Then kill him.

"I want to save this city, like you. Only on a scale that matters."

"Now tell that to the people you've hurt."

"Dude," I said. "What are you doing? He's psychotic!"

"Young man," Fisk said. "Life is not a fairytale. Not everyone deserves…a happy ending." I threw my arms to the side, shaking my head. Bad idea, bad idea. The Mask clenched his jaw, the radio still in his hand. He looked up at me…then brought the radio back up to his mouth, "I'm gonna find you, and I'm gonna make you pay for what you've done."

Unbelievable. Why am I even here? I walked away, one hand on my hip the other rubbing the bridge of my nose. I sighed heavily, trying to pretend that he wasn't being an idiot. "No, you are not," Fisk said what I was thinking. The only way people like this _stay_ down is in a grave. And the Mask won't do that. "Not that I don't admire what you're trying to do…to change the world…with nothing but desire in your own two hands…secure in the knowledge that you're doing the right thing, the only thing. That's something that I do understand."

This is ridiculous. He's stalling. Why is he continuing to engage with him? It's a waste of time. There are plenty of men out there waiting to blow our brains to bits. I walked over to the entrance to the tunnel, got down to see just how stuck the lid was. And it's really in there. The only way this is coming off is if we both pull on it at the same time. That means he needs to end his phone call with mister needs to rule the world.

"But we both can't have what we want," Fisk won't shut up. Just get it over with! You're going to kill us. I know! I stand and start pacing. "So…you're part…in this drama, by necessity, comes to an end."

"It's going to take a lot more than a voice on a radio to stop me," the Mask said. I sighed. Oh, well. I walked up to the Russian. Might as well make use of my time. The Mask is too engaged, too involved, with Fisk to care about what I was doing. I grabbed the Russian by the collar, drug him to the wall, and propped him against it.

"What do you want?" he grumbled.

"Probably the same thing my friend wanted," I jutted my thumb at the Mask. "Only, I won't be as nice. I want answers. Or you'll suffer a fate worse than death." He chuckled, mocking me. I chuckled too, sarcastically playing along. "Don't believe me? Okay. How's this? If you don't tell me _here_ , trust me when I say you _will_ tell me. I'll make sure you get out of here alive. Take you back to my place, fix you up. As soon as you're better…I'll beat you within an inch of your life. If you still refuse," I smiled, "I'll nurse you back you health, and then do it again. And again, and again. This process will continue until I'm _satisfied_ you've answered my question."

The more I spoke the greater the frown became on his face. "But don't worry," I shrugged. "The others broke after the first beating. You shouldn't be much different." Even though I was threatening this guy, I kept an ear on the Mask. Fisk was listing the reasons why the public would blame the Mask for all of this. Then, Fisk asked about the Russian. Getting both of our attentions.

"It's a onetime offer," Fisk said. "You kill the Russian, and we'll call the night a push. You know what he's done…to women…to children…to the people of this city that you claim to care about. But do you know how much he enjoyed it?" I glanced at the Russian. Yeah, I've got a pretty good idea.

"You just confirmed how important he is," the Mask said, almost taunting.

"Okay. I've heard enough," I stood and walked up to the Mask. I snatched the radio out of his hands and then took a few steps. "Hello, Wilson." The Mask tried to take the radio back, but stopped as soon as I spoke into it. "I'm new in town, but you already know that. In case you haven't heard, I'm the Angel of Hell's Kitchen. And if that's the case, then that makes you Satan himself. Though for you that's probably a compliment."

"Angel," he practically spit out the word. "I…didn't expect you to be running around with that masked delinquent. I expected more from you."

"Oh, thanks, that means nothing. For a guy who wants to rule the world…you sure do talk a lot. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of hearing your voice. Why don't you listen to mine for a minute? I've learned a lot about you, just in the last two minutes."

"And what is that?"

"That you're insecure. Most likely you were bullied as a child or the object of someone's rage. The need to take more was clearly drilled into you at a young age. You have more money than you know what to do with, mainly since you're probably middle aged, fat, and have never made it to second base. Though, now that the Russians are out of your hair, I'm sure we'll be seeing you face to face soon. People like you like to take as much as they can from the shadows before stepping out into the light.

"Go ahead and keep telling yourself you've won. We'll just be _that_ much more satisfied when _we_ win. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Russian who wasn't quite finished telling me all he knew." I tossed the radio to the Mask, then walked back over to the Russian. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I sighed and switched on my ear piece.

"There's a sniper on the roof," was all I heard Chase say before he ended the call. I turned, looked at the Mask. He heard what Chase told me. But there's nothing we can do to stop it. Gun shots echoed through the walls. My heart jumped up into my throat, knowing I was trapped down here and couldn't help out there. There was screaming and the sound of people panicking.

The Mask walked up to one of the walls, resting his head against it. He clearly wasn't happy about this. He cares about this city a whole lot more than I do. I can only imagine the helplessness he's feeling right now. I sighed, trying to ignore the gun shots. The Mask brought the radio up to his mouth, "What did you do?"

"What you forced me to do," Fisk said. "Goodbye. I'm afraid we won't speak again."

"Fisk," the Mask started pacing. I sighed, looked down at the Russian. I heard the radio smash against the ball behind me. I rolled my eyes.

"So," I said. "Have you thought about what I said? Or should I repeat it in Russian?"

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

The hospital was incredible crowded with wounded people. There were some shouting names, walking around aimlessly—most likely just looking for their loved ones. I ignored the urge to help and squeezed my way down the hallway toward a Nurse Help desk. As I'd expected, no one was there. I exhaled and looked down either side of the hallway. _Don't panic, Alison. Stay calm_. I forced myself to breathe in my nose and out my mouth. "Can someone help me?"

I started down the right hall. It seemed futile trying to get someone's attention but I at least had to try. How else was I supposed to find Foggy and Karen? "Can somebody-" Just then I spotted a dark skinned woman in scrubs walking my direction of the hall. "Hey- excuse me?" She just barely seemed to see me flagging her down. I hurried over to her and she looked me over. "You don't look injured," she noticed.

"No, uh, I'm looking for someone who was admitted—Foggy Nelson? About my height, long hair- he was with a blonde woman in heels?" With what little information I could give, she still recognized the description. She nodded and ushered me down the hall with her in the opposite direction. "Yeah, he's in room two-oh-two. Go all the way down and take a sharp right, got it?" she used her hands as gestures.

I nodded quickly. "Yeah- thank you!" She scurried off down another hall and I trekked on, following the nurse's directions. _All the way to the end of the hall and then turn right_. Sure enough, room 202 was right there. The door was open and it looked to be occupied by someone else at first. But as I got closer, I noticed it was a shared room. Karen stood by the far wall of the room. I sighed in relief and hurried inside.

She glanced up and noticed me. "Alison! Oh, thank goodness," she said, meeting me half way. She wrapped her arms around me in a tight, death grip like hug. I could feel her shaking. I didn't have to know her for long to know she was sensitive. And this was probably way too much for her to handle by herself. I stepped back and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, don't I get a hug?" Foggy asked, holding out his arms.

I smiled and stepped over to his bedside, then leaned down to wrap my arms around his neck. He reciprocated quickly and I let my shoulders fall a little. "Hey. How are you feeling?" I asked, standing upright. My left hand fell strategically to fall into his, and his fingers immediately laced in with mine. "A lot better now. Still hurts quite a bit, though," he answered, obviously trying to act like it didn't bother him. I knew it did. I was still hurting from my brutal injuries.

It shouldn't take too incredibly long for Foggy's wound to heal. At least, I hoped for it. "Guys, look at this," Karen said, from behind. I twisted to look up at the TV, mounted on the wall. New York 1 was on and playing the coverage of tonight's events. " _The authorities have just released some video. This is taken just moments after the explosions that stunned Hell's Kitchen earlier tonight, pulled from a security camera_..." on the screen come up a section of what looked like an alley.

It was the man in the mask and three police officers. Two officers looked to be unconscious on the pavement and the mask was fighting the third. The mask dropped the officer and slammed his cuffed fists into the man's back to keep him down. I wrapped my arms around myself—dropping Foggy's hand—and my knuckles absentmindedly rested against my lips as I watched nervously.

" _Authorities believe this man is responsible for the bombings, possibly as part of an ongoing feud with the Russian Mob_ ," the anchor said. My heart sank. " _The same man suspected of having just shot and killed the three police officers at the scene of a standoff_..."

"That's him! That's the guy who saved my life-" Karen turned to me, eyes wide. "-along with Angel. I don't understand why he would do something like this. He just didn't seem like..." She shook her head, looking down. I couldn't think of what to say. What do you say about this? "... _you have to wonder, whose side is this man on_?" Anger suddenly coiled in the pit of my stomach. I inhaled and dug my cell phone out of my pocket. "I'll be right back," I said, over my shoulder.

I hurried out into the hallway. It seemed a bit less lively now. I stood closest to the left side of the hallway a few yards down from the room and dialed Matt's number. I'd kiped the number for his burner when I entered in Angel's. He doesn't know it yet, but he's about to. I put the phone up to my ear and it began ringing. He answered on the third ring. "It's not really a good time," he said.

"They think you shot cops, Matt. _Cops_ ," I seethed into the phone. "What is going on out there?"

"It was Fisk. It's all Fisk," he assured, sounding a bit out of breath.

"Did you get what you needed from the Russian?" I asked, leaning my hip into the wall, coming off my anger-high.

"No, not yet." There was a long pause following his words. I waited a second in the hopes he was just in between sentences. But it nagged at me and I had to say something. "Matt? Are you still there?" I asked. Finally I heard him breathing on the other end again. He took a second to respond. "...I made you a promise that I would try not to die. And I'm trying. But just in case this goes south-"

I shook my head, closing my eyes. "No, no. Matt- don't. Don't do that."

"Just listen, okay? I need to get this out. You've been helping me—even at the risk of your own son—and you were there for me when I needed someone... _thank you_ , Alison. It means a lot," he said, his voice quieter. I pushed off the wall and paced a little, unable to hold still in anticipation of what was coming. "Could you tell Foggy...could you tell him the real story? What I was really doing here? I don't want him to think I died a criminal."

I ran my hand through my hair, starting up the hallway at a slow pace. "You'll be able to tell him about all this yourself."

An airy chuckle came through the line. "Can you do that for me? In case?"

"I will," I nodded. I didn't know how I would be able to do what he was asking, but I couldn't say no. I probably couldn't make myself say no even if I tried. "Just keep _your_ promise, Matt. Come home— _alive_."

"Take care of yourself, Alison." Suddenly his end went dead and I stopped walking, my eyes rounding. I felt sick to my stomach with a sinking feeling, accompanied by that all too familiar helplessness. "Matt?" I called, even though I knew it wouldn't work. "Wait! No, no..." I closed the phone and rested my hands on my hips, fighting the urge to scream. My eyes stung as they filled with water.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

The Mask had just hung up the phone with whoever decided to call him at the most inconvenient moment possible. "I'm running out of patience," I told the Russian. "Trust me, I wasn't lying. My _threat_ is more real than you think." The man grumbled in Russian.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"A man who works for Fisk. Wesley. I need to know how to find him."

"Fisk's lapdog."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." I nodded. The Mask came and stood next to me. "How did you always get a hold of him? I doubt Fisk spoke with you directly."

"The phone…in my vest," he mumbled. I knew he might be playing me, but I cautiously knelt down anyway. I opened the pocket that looked the biggest. Sure enough, there was a burner phone in it. I examined the phone, made sure it wasn't damaged. Once I was satisfied, I nodded, "Thank you." I stood and stuffed the phone in my pocket.

"You should take lessons from her," he told the Mask. I knew he'd only tell me what I wanted to know to get on the Mask's nerves. But it worked. I looked at the Mask, "Wesley might be our shot at finding Fisk." He nodded, still mad from his talk with Fisk. "Let's get out of here."

I led the way to the manhole. The Mask followed. We both got down, put our hands on the grate. "You don't have to fight alone, anymore," the words came out before I could stop them. But, it's true. The Mask looked at me. He almost said something, but nodded instead. Together, we both pulled as hard as we could on the grate.

Slowly, the stupid thing came out of its socket. We've slid it to the side. I stopped for a second, panting. My shoulder ached. The Mask stood and helped the Russian to his feet. "We've gotta move," he said. "They're in the building." He helped him to the hole and then they began climbing down the ladder.

I heard footsteps above. It won't be long before they find the hole. I reached for my bow on the ground. I drew back my only explosive arrow. I faintly heard the Mask call for me. "Just a second," I whispered. Then I released the arrow. I aimed for somewhere above, on the first floor. It'll by us some time.

I folded my bow, shoving it in its holster. I quickly climbed into the hole, gripping the ladder. The explosion rocked the old building, causing me to lose my grip half way down the ladder. I slipped off the rungs and was going to fall the last few feet. The Mask caught me before I'd even fell a foot. "Thanks," I said as he put me down.

He nodded, then grabbed the Russian and started moving. We walked under an arch way and into a dark cement room. The Mask slammed the Russian against the wall. He stopped and listened for a minute. "We have to keep moving, find a way to the street." He grabbed the guy and continued deeper into the tunnels. He slammed him against another wall, next to a door.

The Mask let go of the Russian and started fiddling with the lock on the door. But the door wasn't budging. I hung back by the archway we'd walked through, making sure no one followed. But they did. I caught the glimpse of a flashlight. My bow won't do me any good. I'm too close and it's too dark.

As soon as the first flashlight got close enough, I grabbed the gun near the end of the barrel. I pulled the gun just far enough out of his hands to jam it back, up into his face as hard as I could. A blast of bullets sprayed the room. I grabbed his vest and yanked him to the side as the Mask moved in to take out the other guy.

The tunnel lit up with bullets flying everywhere. I pulled the gun completely out of his hands, and then began beating his face with the end of the barrel. He passed out, sliding down the wall. I tossed the gun to the side as a stray bullet caught me in the back. I muffled a scream and fell into the wall in front of me. I put my hand on my lower back over the wound.

It's just a graze, thankfully. It just doesn't feel that way. I hissed as I stood up right, pushing off the wall. "Are you okay?" the Mask came up to me, concern filling his voice. "Yeah," I nodded. "Let's get out of here." He froze for a second, catching my bluff. He took a few steps toward the door, and then stopped. I followed his gaze. The Russian had one of the guns. And it was pointed at us.

"There are five more coming," the Mask said, pointing in the direction the other two guys had come from. "All working for Fisk, probably not even real cops. We don't have time for this."

"I think… maybe I stay," the Russian said.

"We can still make it out of here. You turn evidence on Fisk, we can-"

"He controls…all police…judges. There's only one way to stop him, you know this."

"No. I'm not a killer," the Mask said. I looked at him. Why is he so heck bent on saving everyone? And why does he think he can without getting his hands dirty?

"The moment you put on the mask…you got into cage with animals. Animals don't stop fighting. Not until one of them is dead." My head slightly dropped, knowing he was right. The Russian started to stand, wheezing his way to his feet. The Mask took a step forward to help him, but I grabbed his forearm and pulled him back. He glanced down at me.

"This animal's holding the gun," I said. We looked back at the Russian, who was now standing. He still had the gun on us.

"What Fisk did to me," he said, "he'll do to you two. And he'll do it…to everyone you care about. Will you feel the same way then? Or will you be man…and do what you know you must do? The dermo who controls money, his name is…Leland Owlsley. He will give you what you think you want. But it won't be enough. You know that, don't you?"

This guy's not going to be able to stand much longer, let alone hold that gun. I back up to the door. I slipped out my lock picking kit and began working on the lock. Maybe three seconds later it was off. I opened the door. The Mask still stood in indecision, in the middle of the room. He tilted his head for a second. They must be getting closer.

The Russian looked at him, then nodded. "Go," was all he said. But the Mask didn't want to. I walked up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. I looked back at the Russian, "Thank you." I said it sincerely, and not condescending like earlier. I pulled the Mask through the door. Not one minute later we heard gun fire.

But we kept walking, neither one of us wanting to look back. We walked for a half hour before we found a way out of the tunnels. Then we found the closest building and climbed to the roof. The whole way, neither one of us said anything. I wanted too…just wasn't sure what _to_ say. We stood on the roof in silence for a minute.

Should I stay? I mean, all this guy wants is to see the good in people, so why is he in this line of work? All we _ever_ see is the bad. I sighed quietly. "I don't think it was an accident we met the way we did," I blurted. "Because I don't think you were meant to fight this battle alone. I didn't come to this town looking for a fight…" I glanced over the surrounding city, the Mask staring at me. "But, I'll fight with you until the end of it."

I leaned into the wall behind me, reminding myself of the gash on my back. I hissed slightly, as the Mask walked closer to me. He stopped a foot away. I looked at him questioningly. He stared back, like he was going to say something. I stared at where his eyes should be, then at the part of his face I could see. I know what he wants to do. And for the first time, in a long time…I had a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

He leaned in, putting his lips so close they brushed mine. I closed the gap between us, kissing him. He didn't pull back, but pushed in. And in that moment…I realized why I so frantically searched for him all night, why I pulled him out of that dumpster and took him to Alison's, why I felt so bad when he blamed himself for Alison's kidnapping. I realized that he's the reason why I go out every night; for that slim chance of being able to see him again.

We both broke the kiss at the same time. My eyes were closed as I rested my forehead against his. "Next time," I whispered, "you should lead with that." He smiled and half chuckled. The roof top became quiet, with nothing but city sounds. Eventually, we pulled away from each other. "Thank you, Angel," he said. "For coming out again."

I shrugged, like it was nothing. "Oh, Mask," I sighed. "Don't you know? I'm always on your side."

"I feel the same way," he smiled. I grinned and he took a few steps back. "Goodnight, Angel."

I nodded, "Goodnight, Mask."


	14. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"Devil? Yeah, right," Foggy stared at the news paper clutched in his hands. I rolled my eyes. I've been resisting saying _anything_ about that article all day. "Guy's a coward." He walked away from me and into the office with the others. They've spent all day working some case. Of course when I say 'they' I mean Karen and Matt. Foggy's too hung up on the man in the mask.

I tuned him out as I finished up with their printer. Yesterday it decided to start squirting ink everywhere. I, unfortunately, only know how to make it work for a little while after it's stopped. I don't know how to make it _stay_ working. I wipe what ink I can off my hands with a rag, walking up next to Foggy in the door way.

"Please tell me I don't detect a hint of admiration for that _terrorist_ ," Foggy was staring at Karen.

"This is just all speculation," she argued. "Nobody knows if he's a terrorist or what."

"You're absolutely right. Terrorists have causes," Foggy shot back. He was looking for someone to argue with about this. For some reason he's determined to get someone to believe him that the man in the mask, or 'The Devil of Hell's Kitchen', is a terrorist. "They claim responsibility. This guy's just a nut job." He tossed the baseball in his hands in the air. He reached out to catch it and moaned, clutching his side.

"Dude, catch with your _other_ hand," I said.

"Yeah. It's downgraded to agony," he agreed.

"All right," Karen said. "What do you think, Matt?" He'd been sitting at the desk, quietly reading. I'm sure he's been trying to tune us out. "I think Foggy will be pitching for the Mets by mid-season," he said sarcastically.

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. Have you seen their bullpen?" Matt's question was rhetorical, which made it even funnier. I chuckled, along with Karen. Foggy, though, stayed serious, determined to see this through. "Come on," he said, "you're telling me this guy blowing up our backyard _doesn't_ make you mad. At all?"

"What happened to Hell's Kitchen, to you, Dani, and Elena, and to all the people that were hurt," I could tell Matt was choosing his words wisely. He paused for a second, thinking. "Yeah, it makes me mad. But this man, whoever he is, whatever his motive, he shouldn't be tried and convicted in the press. We're lawyers, we know that's not how it's supposed to work." That was the polite way of telling Foggy to drop it.

Right now, I'm just the fly on the wall. I don't want to say anything that might incriminate me. And I was hoping the discussion would've ended there, but then Karen drug it a bit further, "So, uh, hypothetically, if this guy got caught…needed counsel, Nelson and Murdock would offer to defend him?"

"NO!" Foggy answered before the question mark landed on the end of Karen's sentence.

"It would be his right," Matt corrected.

"What about my right to punch him in the melon?" Foggy asked. I swear, the two sound like an old married couple half the time. "They pulled a piece of glass out of my side. Elena needed twelve stitches. And Dani needed…" he paused and looked at me.

"I…lost count at twenty," I said sheepishly, knowing it wouldn't help drop the subject. The running story is that I was out working a case and got caught in one of the blasts. I don't know if Foggy believed it or not, but the fact that I'm hurt because of all of this is helping him to prove his point.

Foggy made a gesture like I was proving his point, before continuing, "And you want to Perry Mason the guy who's responsible?"

"No one knows he's responsible," I said. "Right now, he's just the only suspect. As a lawyer, Foggy, you should want the right man behind bars. So he can't do it again." I half grumbled the last part.

"The whole things moot. After shooting those cops, police are probably looking to settle things the old-fashioned way if they catch up to him."

"Yeah, it's more than likely," Matt said. He didn't seem his usual self. Maybe it's just the topic of the conversation getting to him. "I wonder…" Karen said. "I wonder what Angel is thinking about all of this?" I rolled my eyes as Foggy's grew wide. You know, I think he _did_ forget who I was. Just for a split second.

"She probably knows _who_ the guy _is_ ," Foggy said, shooting a glance my way. I, ever so slightly, shook my head.

"Really? You think they've met?"

"The town blew up," I said. "I think right now anything's possible. I mean, they could be working together or they could just now be finding out about the other. But, I think the question that should concern us the most is if they're on the same side. Just going off of the names the press has given them, you'd think they were enemies. I mean, really. Who's ever heard of an angel and the devil teaming up to save a city?" The room went quiet. I had to lay it on a little thick. There's no way I'm letting this cat get out of this bag.

"Just a thought," Karen said, "but we may want to go a bit peppier at the end of the day. Leave on a note slightly higher than deeply depressing."

"Then don't become a private investigator," I smirked. Foggy pointed at Karen, "She's right. You're bringing us down, Dylan."

"What?" I said sarcastically. "You hoped on that depressing train the moment you saw that article." He ignored me and instead picked up his baseball bat.

"High note! Softball!" he said with WAY too much enthusiasm. "When are we getting a company team together?" Karen gathered her things, chuckling. I rolled my eyes and then walked out into the main room to fetch my coat. "We have _three_ employees," Karen argued. Foggy turned to me with a questioning look.

I shook my head. "I'm not on your payroll, Nelson. And I plan to keep it that way." He shot me a look like I was being ridiculous as the tip of the bat fell to the floor. Karen walked to the door and began putting on her coat. "At least two of them aren't blind," Matt spoke loud enough so Karen could hear, as he adjusted his glasses.

"Naysayers, each and every one of you," Foggy said, jabbing a figure toward each of us. "Karen, come on!" He walked closer to her. "Batting practice, you and me, Chelsea Piers. What do you say?"

"I would, it's just that I have this thing."

"Go, do that thing. Not a problem."

"Okay, um…see you tomorrow."

"We'll be here," Foggy said, clearly disappointed. Karen waved and then left. I stood by the desk with Matt, clutching my coat in my hands. I sighed, tired from a day of doing nothing. "Well, I'm out of here, too," I said.

"Thank you, Miss Dylan," Matt said, "for…fixing the printer, again."

"Yeah, well…I'd suggest getting a new one," I shrugged, jokingly.

"Oh, come on," Foggy said. "If we did that, you'd _never_ come by again." Matt and I chuckled.

" _No_ , I would," I said it like he was stupid for suggesting otherwise. And he was. I love coming here and shooting the breeze with these guys. And Foggy and I have always had fun together. He's just desperate, right now. I unfolded my coat, trying to get up the guts to put it on. Everything I do hurts. I must've been staring at the coat in my hands longer than I thought, because I hear Matt say, "Would you like some help with that?"

I could tell by his tone he wasn't joking. He was being completely serious. He might not be able to see the stitches on the side of my forehead, but he knew I was injured the other night. And, a lot worse than Foggy was. Of course no one knows it was a bullet, but stitches are stitches. "Yes, please." Matt was standing before I finished speaking.

He stood next to me and I gave him my coat. He held it open for me by the collar. I slowly slid each arm into it's spot, only wincing once. He then gently pulled the coat up onto my shoulders, at its final resting spot. He pulled my mop of hair out of the coat for me. I turned around and looked at him, "Thank you." I buttoned the top two buttons.

"You're welcome, Miss Dylan," Matt nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. Suddenly, Foggy cleared his throat. "Not in front of the _children_!" he spat the words out like an old lady, scolding us for about to make out in front of toddlers. Matt and I laughed as Foggy stormed past us, a mock disapproving look on his face. I walked to the doorway and Matt went back to his desk. I turned around and smiled, "Goodnight, guys."

Foggy popped out from around the corner, like nothing ever happened, still wielding the bat, "Later, Dani!" I chuckled. Where does he get all of his enthusiasm? "Goodnight," I could hear the smile in Matt's voice. I nodded and then headed for the door.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My knuckles slammed into Dani's apartment door. It only took a second for her to open it. Her expression was exhausted, spread thin. "What can I do for you, Alison?" she asked, slowly. I inhaled. Trying to control the utter rage I felt inside seemed pointless, but I held it in as best I could as I replied, "Wanna tell me why you just happen to have the code to a satellite, and why my son was able to access it in order to aid a vigilante, all under your roof?"

"Alison, I-"

"How did Angel even know you had a satellite and what the code was?" I asked, interrupting. "You know what- I don't care. I don't even want to know. My son could've been put in serious danger being involved in last night's escapade, and you've made him an accessory to whatever crimes the police want to throw at the man in the mask. I trusted that he would be safe here. That's what you told me. But, obviously, I can't trust anything you say at all."

"I'm so sorry this happened. I didn't think he'd be able to find where I'd hidden the code to the satellite. And I don't know why some vigilante knew I had it," she explained, still seeming a bit worn.

"Yeah, well...now I can't trust you. First you bring a bleeding masked man into my home. Then you let Chase sit by himself at school. And now this. And you know, I'm sorry, too. Because it's going to take time, this time, before I can trust you again," I said. It was a second long and small, but I could've sworn I saw her eyes softening. She steeled back to her usual resolve as soon as I thought I'd seen it. "I just wanted to let you know, I'm _highly_ disappointed in you."

After dropping that, I turned and started for my car. Dani didn't try to stop me. Or respond in any way, actually. I slid in behind the wheel and started the engine. The next stop was Matt's apartment. I had to make this point elsewhere. Seeing as I wanted nothing to do with Angel at the moment, I would have to go through a middle man—the mask. Or Matt Murdock. Either way you look at it, I'm getting my message passed along.

Especially if he's going to be continuing to team up with her. I got to Matt's apartment building and headed straight for his door. I was in a lot of pain last time I was here, but even I could find my way back. Once again my knuckles met wood as I knocked twice, then stepped back to wait, sliding my hands into my coat pockets. There was a brief pause and nothingness before the door pulled open, revealing Matt still wearing his vigilante get-up. "Alison, this isn't really a good time," he said, seeming miffed.

"We need to talk," I slid past him into the apartment. He closed the door as I reached the living room. My feet froze in their place not even three steps in, and my eyes rounded. An older looking man stood by the coffee table with white hair and a weathered face. Almost immediately I noticed the gloss of his eyes. He was blind. "And here you said she wasn't coming back," the man commented, his tone snidely sarcastic. "What's _your_ name?"

Matt didn't waste time coming into the living room, stopping near my side. "Alison Fletcher," I answered, raising a brow. I looked to Matt. "Don't tell me I missed the sarcastic blind guys' association convention. Obviously he knows about _this_." I gestured toward Matt's lower half, knowing he couldn't see it. He'd sense it anyway.

Matt squared his jaw, hiding a sigh. "I told you this wasn't a good time."

"Yeah, that's what you said right before you said goodbye," I defended, turning to him. "We don't all have super senses, Matt. Some of us are _just_ human."

"Ouch." The other blind man in the living room sounded less than pleased, but he also sounded amused at the same time. Matt turned a little to face both of us. "Shut up," he told the blind man.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize your little breakup was private," the man said, sarcastically. He turned around and moved to the couch, taking a seat with a sigh. Matt seemed to only get further annoyed by his comment. I felt completely third-wheeled. This was a bad idea. _Way to go, Alison_. The man's tone turned mocking at his next words. "Boo-hoo. Stick left me. Think I'll bury my sorrows between the legs of supermodels."

"Don't push it, Stick," Matt warned, taking a step forward. The man referred to as 'Stick' stood from the couch and stepped closer to Matt. "Or what? I'm trying to teach you how to stay alive," Stick said. "And here you are, throwing it all away, because you're having too much fun with a girl. You're worse than your old man. Born to lose Battlin' Jack. At least your daddy got paid when he hit the floor."

"Okay. Let's get some things straight, buddy," I spoke up, crossing my arms in annoyance. "I'm no one's girl. And the next thing you say better be an apology, because you don't want to go down that road."

Stick huffed a mocking chuckle. "What _road_?"

"The road where you say things about my friends that I don't like," I replied.

"And what exactly are you going to do, huh? I know who you are, what you do. You sit behind a desk and write about stuff no one really cares about. Just because I can't see doesn't mean I don't know what's in the papers, _kid_. The Angel of Hell's Kitchen?" he chuckled again. " _Please_. Angel my-" Suddenly Matt lunged at Stick, grabbing Stick by his shirt. I stepped back on a startle. Stick easily turned Matt around, twisting his arm behind his back, locking his position.

I covered my gaping mouth with my hand, my heart beating now in my throat. Matt heaved for a breath a second. Then he managed to break free from Stick's grasp with a drastic flip, landing on his feet, and turning to face Stick with his fists ready to fight. Stick was poised ready as well. He chuckled a third time, this time sounding more interested. "Took you twenty years to learn how to get out of that," he commented, almost sounding prideful.

Matt nodded, putting down his fists. "Yeah, I've learned a lot since you've been gone."

"Like what?" Stick mocked.

"You're an idiot," Matt responded, almost instantly.

"That's true. You got any beer?" My hand fell to my side and I stared in confusion. _Really?_ What is wrong with this guy? "Yeah, in the fridge," Matt answered. Stick turned and made for the kitchen, and Matt stepped over to me. "You okay?"

I blinked. "Seriously? No, I'm not _okay_ —not in any form of the word. Look, I came here to tell you to tell Angel I said to back off. That's it. I-"

"What do you mean? Back off?" Matt now was the confused one. I exhaled and closed my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose. After a second I reopened them and slid my hands into my pockets. I nodded. "Yeah. I don't want her involved with my son again. Once was enough but, Matt, she had Chase use a satellite to help her get into the warehouse last night," I vented, feeling the anger I originally had billow up.

He sighed, turning away a bit. "I take it this isn't _your_ kid we're talking about, Matty?" Stick assumed sitting on the couch with a beer in hand. "Please say it isn't."

" _We_ are not talking about anything," I snapped, looking around Matt at Stick.

" _Excuse_ me." I inhaled, practically fuming. I opened my mouth to say something but Matt's fingers encircled my arm, stopping me. "Don't. He's not worth it," he said, turning back to face me completely. "I'll tell Angel to stay away from Chase, okay?"

I nodded, trying to calm myself. "Thanks."

"So, you wanna know why I'm here, or what?" Stick called from the couch. Matt sighed and started for the chairs. "I thought the suspense was supposed to kill me," he said, dryly, sitting. I turned to leave, but stopped at Stick's voice. He said, "Why don't you stick around, kid? You might learn something _useful_." I rolled my eyes at the jab. But it would be nice to know what exactly Matt was going to get beat up doing. That way I can actually put an action to the stitches.

I forced myself to keep my mouth shut, and started for the chair left of Matt's. "It's the war, Matty. Never-ending war," Stick told Matt, as I dropped into the available chair. This guy sounds more and more like a nut job. Maybe staying wasn't such a good idea after all. I could still leave. "With who? You never got around to that part," Matt asked.

"Now, the Japanese, mostly," Stick replied.

"Look, I don't want you tearing up Hell's Kitchen going after the Yakuza."

"Yakuza? You don't know what's going on in your own backyard. That guy that was yappin' with that old man you slapped around-"

"Come again?" I raised an eyebrow, looking to Matt. Stick and Matt ignored me, continuing on with the conversation. "He's pretty high up. Goes by a lot of names. Using Nobu this time around," Stick finished, before taking a pull from his beer.

"So, Nobu- you want him so bad, why'd you let him get away back in the garage?" Matt questioned.

"I don't want him. I want what's on the ship he's meeting at the docks tonight," Stick corrected.

"Right, Owlsley was talking about that," Matt thought aloud.

"What's he bringing in? Drugs or something?" I asked, sitting forward. The journalist in me was overbearingly curious. I couldn't help but ask. Stick sighed. "A weapon. They call it Black Sky, the bringer of shadows," he answered.

"What kind of weapon?" Matt asked.

"The kind you don't want in your world." I looked at Stick skeptically. Really? He sounded like some dystopian nut. Matt was quiet a minute. I glanced between the men, unsure of what was going on. Then Matt said, "Just say it."

"Say what?" Stick grumbled.

"Say that you want my help," Matt clarified.

"I want you to help yourself. Nobu and his guys and in tight with Fisk. You them, you hurt baldy-"

"You know about Fisk?" Matt asked, not really a question.

"I know a lot of stuff. This beer for example-" Stick held up his beer bottle a little. "-Is awful." I refrained from chuckling a little. This guy may be crazy but he's got dry humor down pat. At least that's one thing he has going for him. "After all your talk about cutting friends loose, and...now you need one," Matt commented, pleased with himself.

"I don't need a friend. I need a soldier," Stick argued, calmly. "Committed. Not some bleeding-heart idealist hanging onto half measures."

"You don't know anything about what I'm doing here," Matt shook his head. Stick sighed. He leaned forward a bit. "Kid, in war, people die. If it's not you, it's the guy next to you. How many men have you killed protecting this city?" Stick questioned. Matt inhaled and Stick gesture out in a _case in point_ kind of way before sitting back. "You're still afraid to cross that line," he pointed out.

"And what's wrong with that?" I asked. "What is wrong with having even just a shred of humanity? Which—correct me if I'm wrong—you don't have."

"Someday, it's gonna come down to you or the other guy. If it's not Fisk, somebody else. What're you gonna do then?" I could see his point, but it was still infuriating. There was no winning with this man. Matt sighed. "Yeah, a Russian asked me the same thing recently...right before he died," Matt said.

"Are you the one that put him in the ground?" Stick asked, somewhat hopeful.

"No," Matt shook his head once.

Stick nodded. "Half measures, Matty. Ah, forget it. Ride with me tonight- help me destroy Black Sky, keep it off the streets, and I promise you this: Wilson Fisk will know the taste of fear the day he faces you 'cause you kicked the guy he's afraid of right in the nuts. What do you say, kid?"

Matt was quiet a minute. He turned toward me a bit, his face looking sort of in my general direction. "What do you think about all this, Alison?" he asked me. Stick grumbled an annoyed sigh, taking another drink of his beer. What did I think about it? I tried not to let Stick's presence sway my words. I inhaled. "I think if you do this, you'll probably end up regretting it," I answered, truthfully. "There should at least be one rule—no killing. From _either_ of you."

Matt nodded in agreeance, turning back toward Stick. "What she said. We don't kill anyone." Stick, his expression full of annoyance and mocking, held up his right hand. "I swear to not kill anybody," he said, closed-eyed. He dropped his hand with a huff and stood. "Wimp." Matt stood and I quickly followed suit. He turned to me. "I'll talk to Angel tonight. I think I'm probably going to need her help with this one. Mainly keeping Stick in line," he said.

I nodded, before wrapping my arms around his neck in a hug. "Okay. Just be careful."

"Don't I always?" I could hear the smile in his voice as he hugged me back briefly. We parted, and he followed Stick up to the roof access door. My shoulders dropped—along with my heart—as I heard it click shut behind them.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I closed the door, not trying to stop Alison. She was right. It was stupid of me to let Chase help. And I even instigated him. Even though he called me…this all falls on me. If something were to happen to Chase because of that night, it'd be my fault. I sighed, pressing my forehead into the back of the door. Had I gotten caught, someone could've traced the phone back here. I've gone over it a hundred times. But, I never could've helped save the Mask without Chase's help.

Maybe I'm going about this all wrong. Maybe this town doesn't need some person in a mask. Maybe it needs the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent I'm trying not to be anymore. "You okay?" I turned around and saw Mary, holding her baby a few feet away. I shrug. She nods. "I suppose you don't want to talk about it?" she asked cautiously. I shrug. She nods, "Okay."

"I've gotta go meet a client," I said, pointing at the door.

"Since when do you go to them?" she saw right through my bluff. She knows I haven't had a client in a week, besides Alison. I looked at her and shrugged, "That's life." I grabbed my keys of the coffee table and then opened the door. I figure Alison's probably long gone. So I think the coast is clear. I waved and then left. I drove two hours away, to the most remote location I could find.

I pulled up next to a black car and cut the engine. I wiped the trip monitor before getting out of the car. That way, if this goes south, he won't know how far I traveled to get here. I closed the door as a man exited from the black car. Wesley. Dressed in his usual fancy suit, tie, and those annoying black rimmed glasses. "Mind telling me what this is all about?" he said, walking around the front of his car to me.

"I know you had something to do with Alison's kidnapping," I said. "Whether you planned it or you just took the opportunity to get her out of the way, I don't know. But you got the wrong girl."

He looked confused for a second. "What are you talking about?"

"If it's information on the man in the mask, or 'The Devil of Hell's Kitchen', that you're after, I'm the one who helped him that night and have been still. I'm the one you should be after."

"Tell me, Miss Dylan, are you this…close to _all_ your clients or just the ones who have children who grew up without a father?"

"You're not the only one who's done his research, Mr. Wesley," I smirked. His face dropped, a spark of fear appearing in his eyes. "You're just the only one who doesn't know how to use his information wisely." I couldn't help the grin on my face. He's going to need to clean out his shorts when he gets home. "I need to know what _exactly_ it is you want from the Fletchers."

"My, uh…employer can't find out about them," he said. I put my hands in my pockets, raising an eyebrow. He sighed.

"You tried to have Alison killed."

"I know. That was an… _unfortunate_ turn of events." What is he talking about? He told the Russian mob who she was so they'd kill her in the name of getting intel on an enemy. I raised my eyebrow again, completely confused. He sighed heavily. "I'm sure she's told you about what happened, ten years ago, between us…?"

"Yeah, you tried to kill her then, too. I'm starting to see a pattern."

"I've worked for my employer for some time now. Only recently have we become…we've established mutual grounds. But, when I first started, he was ruthless. You had to make yourself disappear, and if you didn't, _he_ would," he sighed, taking a quick look around. We're in the middle of nowhere on a gravel road. Is he _that_ afraid of Fisk? I finally looked back at me.

"I'm telling you this because I'm hoping you can help me keep them safe."

"Whoa, what?" I said. "Keep them-what is the matter with you? Don't me telling your playing the 'I had good intentions' card. You got that one pulled out of your deck a long time ago. Like back whe-" I stopped mid word, my mind taking over. And then I had light bulb moment. "He told you to get rid of them," I half whispered the words. Wesley nodded. "Even if, and that's the world's biggest if, I believed your story…what is your end game?"

"To protect them, from my employer. For the rest of my life, if I have to. But, if he were to…find out," he briefly closed his eyes, sighing, "it would be the end of all of us. Me, Alison, Chase, You…those two lawyers and their assistant. Anyone she'd ever spoken to, or knew in anyway."

I nodded, processing the information. I knew Fisk was a tyrant, but…killing all of us at once? That would be too conspicuous. He'd need to do it a couple at a time, over the course of a few months. Unless he was so enraged he didn't care. "Who's your employer?" I asked. He glanced around again, then back to me. "Do you want my help or not?"

He sighed through his nose, closing his eyes. "His name is Wilson…Fisk."

I nodded. "I'll help you protect them. But the only way to do that is to stop Fisk," I said, turning to walk back to my car. I opened the driver's door, then looked back at him. "Work your magic and give Angel and the Mask some slack. I'll be in touch." I got in the car and started the engine. There's no way I'm whole heartedly trusting this guy, but if he can help us take down Fisk…it's worth the risk. That wasn't supposed the rhyme.

Before I drove away, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I watched Wesley drive away, then flipped the phone over in my hand. My thumb pressed the red x, stopping the recording. I'll delete the part where he said my name, but I want the Mask to here this. I drove back home and began my trek up the stairs to the top floor. I made it the third floor, when Angel's phone started buzzing.

Speak of the devil. Literally. I dug the phone out of my coat pocket, stopping in the stairwell. I confirmed it was him, then answered. "Yeah?"

"Bad timing?" he asked.

"No, why? Is everything okay?"

"How fast can you get to the docks?"

I smiled. "How fast do you need me?" I moved to the next chunk of stairs and began trotting up them. I heard someone grumble something in the background, but couldn't make it out. I reached the fourth floor and picked up the pace a little. The Mask quickly grumbled something unintelligible, as well, before answering me. "Angel, just…" he sighed in annoyance, but something told me that it wasn't directed at me. "Just come as quickly as you can."

"The last time you called, the town blew up and I got shot. So, what exactly am I walking into?" I reached my apartment, but didn't enter. I stood in the hall outside the door.

"Nothing that eventful," he chuckled. "Just bring your bow. I'll explain when you get here." The line quickly went dead. I ran inside and changed. It's late, so Mary's asleep. But I left her a note so she wouldn't worry. I hurried out the roof access and then made my way across town. Ten minutes and I was close to the docks. I was constantly checking my surroundings, not sure what I'd find. But, there's no sign of the Mask. My guess is that he'll find me.

I continued walking, feeling totally out in the open. I came across a field of shipping crates and knew I had reached the docks. I went a little further, in between two of the crates. A shadow crossed my path from above. I stopped and turned to the right. The Mask stood atop a crate looking down at me. He crouched down, reaching his hand out toward me. I grabbed his hand with my left and he helped hoist me up onto the crate. "Angel," he smirked.

"Mask," I said, trying to hide the pain from my back. "What are we doing? I noticed there aren't a lot of people around."

"There's a reason for that. Come on." He stood. I realized he hadn't let go of my hand when he used it to tug me to my feet. I follow him across several crates. The closer we got to the water, the quieter his footsteps got. If that were even possible. We jumped from a crate to the roof of a building. He bent down, keeping level with the wall surrounding the roof. I followed suit, as he led me to the corner of the roof where a man was waiting. "About time," the man said in a low voice.

I rolled my eyes, letting the jab blow over my head. "I needed your help tonight," the Mask says, "because a man named Nobu is bringing in some cargo tonight, that he shouldn't."

"And he wanted you here to help keep an eye on me," the old man said. He was wearing street clothes and blacked out sunglasses. Yeah, that's not suspicious. I glanced at the Mask. "This is Stick. He has a tendency," the Mask started, then glanced at the man, "to not keep his word. And kill people." There it is. The Mask's moral compass must be flying out of control. But if this guy likes to kill, why'd he team up with him?

Before I could respond, a few black SUVs pulled up not too far away from the building we were on. "This is like a really terrible game of hide and seek," I whispered.

"You have no idea, kid," Stick said. We each to a position at the edge of the roof. A crane was beginning to lower a shipping crate on the ground in front of the men below. An older Japanese looking man stood in front of one of the SUVs. I'm betting that's Nobu. He looks like he could be the man in charge. I guess you'd have to be with a scowl like that. "How many do you read?"

"I'm picking up a dozen heartbeats," the Mask replied. I only just realized he was doing that thing where he's listening to something intently. Turns out, he's scoping the joint. "Slow, steady, not even a flutter. There's one more. Stronger…different."

"Nobu," Stick said. So that must be him. Be nice if I, you know, knew a little more about our game plan.

"They're armed. MP7s with suppressors. Somebody wants things quiet."

"We'll be quieter. That is, if your _girl_ can keep up."

I sighed. "Got a thing against women, bub?" A grin creped onto Stick's face. He turned back to the Mask, holding two sticks in his hand. Ironic. "You remember how to use these?" he asked. The Mask quickly shook his head.

"I won't need 'em," he shook his head.

"Yeah, you will. Thin out the herd. I'll take care of the Black Sky."

"How?"

"Just do your job, I'll do mine. Move," Stick said. I half grunted. "Okay," I sighed. "I need an explanation, old man, or I'll blow your sting to kingdom come. That's a promise."

"Watch out," the Mask teased, "she means it." Stick clearly wasn't impressed. Like I care. He looked at the Mask, "Can't you ever find a girl who's not as naïve as you?" Rage built up in me. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind. My hand flew to my side. I pulled out my compacted bow, then flicked my wrist. It expanded into a normal sized bow, as I reached behind me for an arrow. The Mask quickly grabbed me, pulling me with him to the other side of the roof. "That's not a good idea," he said.

"Then why bring me here if you're not going to let me in on the plan?"

"I know, I'm sorry. Stick just showed up tonight, needing help stopping Nobu from bringing whatever's in that crate into Hell's Kitchen. I agreed to help him. But, you're right, Angel, I should've been completely honest with you from the start. I don't know what's in the crate, either, but it's not good." He froze, listening. "Why need to go. There about to open the crate. Just don't let them get the crates contents, okay? Follow my lead." I nodded.

I followed him down the back of the building. He pointed in a direction and I went that way looking for a stake out spot. I've slightly upped my arsenal, with a few new knives. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s of course. Which also means I can't leave them behind. It's like: "Hey, guys. We're a top secret government organization. How about we put our logo on _everything_?" I mean, really. How stupid was _that_?

But I have six of them on me. I haven't tried pulling back my bow since I was shot. So the knives are a backup plan. Just in case. Hopefully, I won't need them. The men, all dressed in suits, surrounded the whole area. Making sure no one gets in. The crane had almost lowered the crate to the floor. I reached behind me, quietly pulling an arrow out of my quiver and into my bow. Then I went back for another.

I had three arrows strategically placed in my bow. If my injuries will only let me use my bow _once_ …then I better make it count. Like three. Three's a good number to count too. I tightened my grip as I surveyed the area. Movement on the far right caught my eye. A stick can flying out of nowhere, silently smacking some guy in the head. I toppled over into the water, the crane masking the splash.

The crane finally sat the shipping crate down, coming to a loud stop. Two men moved in to open the doors. I heard a chain clinking around, then they moved to pull the doors open. I nearly dropped my arrows. Inside the crate was a boy, chained up in the middle of it. From what I can see, he doesn't look much older than Chase. Nobu stood at the entrance to the crate, staring in.

Okay, this is not right. I don't care what that kid can do, _he's still a kid_. I do a quick glance around and don't see the Mask. Then I look up to the roof where I know Stick is. _So, old man. What game are you playing?_ I don't know what Nobu wants with this kid, but he _and_ Stick are not getting him.

Nobu nodded toward his men, then walked away. The two men stepped into the crate to unchain the boy. I sighed, not knowing what my next move was. "Mask," I whispered, just barely enough to make out the words, "he's just a kid." I was borderline pleading, trying to get my message across. I just hope he got it. Of course, I'll bet there's no way he's letting Stick have this kid.

The men pulled the boy out of the crate and stood him before Nobu. I moved in a little closer, trying to get a better shot. Still no sign of the Mask. I pulled my bow back, ready to shot someone. The further I pulled back my arm, the more stitches I could feel ripping. I bit my bottom lip, trying to ignore it. But now, standing turned to the side, something caught the corner of my eye. I looked away from my target and up onto the roof. I could just barely see Stick. He's standing, holding a bow aimed at Nobu and the boy.

I swore under my breath, quickly twisting, pointing my bow at Stick. He wanted what was in that crate. The Mask said it was a _weapon_. Stick is _just_ crazy enough to shot a boy in cold blood. I twist my wrist, turning the bow on it's side. Stick's figure moved and instantly mine left my bow. I watched my blue feathered arrows as best I could. The first one knocked the bow out of Stick's hands. The second I lost track of.

The third arrow struck Stick's. Mine went into the water, but Stick's went off course flying straight into the crate. Guns started firing and men started yelling things in another language. This is just a guess, but…Japanese? I sighed with relief, then reached for another arrow. The Mask literally flipped out of the shadows. I stepped out into the light, shooting the first person I came to.

Nobu's men grabbed the boy and rushed him into the back of a van. I shot one of them in the back. I readied an arrow to shoot the other, raised the bow, began pulling the string back…the wound on my back split completely open. I muffled a scream, my hand slipping off the end of the arrow. The arrow imbedded itself into the side of the van, after skipping on the pavement. I groaned in frustration, as the van drove away.

The Mask was fighting the rest on Nobu's men. I switched my bow into my right hand. I readied three more arrows. Been a while since I've done it this way. I raised the bow and aimed for the men the Mask was fighting. I steadied myself, tilted the bow to the left…then released. Three men hit the deck with an arrow in their back. I walked closer, another arrow ready. I aimed and fired, then repeated the process until the Mask was the only one standing.

He stood heaving; one of those sticks in each hand. They got away. Great. I folded my bow as the Mask listened. I slid it into it's holster, then let out a painful sigh/moan. I bent over, my left hand on my leg to support me. "Now I know-" I wheezed. Grunting, I forced myself to stand up right again. "-why he's called 'Stick'…cause he's got one shoved up hi-"

"Are you okay?" the Mask cut me off with a worried tone as he rushed over to me. "Angel, that's a lot of blood."

"I know," I said. He pulled his glove off, then slid his hand down my back to the cut. I winced as he made contact with it. "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" he asked. "It's at least half an inch deep, another five inches long."

"Well…I had it under control."

"You need to have Alison look at it."

"No. She's not going to want to see me," I said. His silence told me he knew why. "Look, just…don't worry about me. I'll go home and get it fixed up, I have someone who can help if need be." He nodded, like he was only half listening to me. He slid his glove back on. "Is what Alison said true? About the other night?"

"I don't know what she told you, but Chase called _me_. I only answered to make sure he was okay. Then he told me he knew where you were…and yes, the part about the satellite's true, too," I sighed, the pain in my back turning into more of a throb. "I stole it from a previous boss of mine. He was a jerk." The Mask chuckled. "But, yeah. That night was crazy. I've thought it through a thousand times. But the only way I could've found you was with Chase's help. So, Alison can be mad at me all she wants…but it was worth it."

He quickly covered the space between us, cupping my face in his hands and kissing me. He drew it out as long as he could. I could tell he didn't want to leave me, and I don't want him to leave either. He pulled his lips away from mine, but still stayed close. His hands still holding my face. I don't have to say goodbye. If I told him who I was he wouldn't have to leave.

Just as those thoughts entered my head, so did the doubt. I remembered the last time my two worlds collided. My brother died. Mary's husband died, Elizabeth was left without a father. She didn't even get to know him. When she's older, she won't remember him either. Even though it hurt to move, I wrapped my arms around him. I buried my head in the crook of his neck and held him. He didn't hesitate to return the hug. I held him like that for few minutes, then slid out of his grip. "I heard you."

"What?" I asked.

"Before the fight. I heard you whisper. I was thinking the same thing," he said. "If Stick shows his face again, I'll do more than just talk to him." I nodded. I turned to leave, but stopped and looked back.

"I want you to know that someday I plan on telling you who I am," I said. "The last time…" I swallowed, "last time didn't…work out. I'm just not ready to reveal myself again. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if…if I did and it turned out like last time." My voice was a little shaky, unsure of the words I was speaking. I wanted to blame it on blood loss, but I knew that wasn't it. I could tell he knew it too.

His face became very serious, almost like he was waiting for the ball to drop. He nodded. "Well, I'm not sure you could handle my day life, so," he shrugged his shoulders. I smiled. His face went serious again. "I'll wait, Angel. When, or if, you're ready…I'll be here. Take your time. Besides…who said it was your name I was after?" He walked up to me, smiling. He held out his hand. "I'll take you half way." I took his hand, a slight smile on my face.


	15. Without a Tres

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I touched my knuckles to the wood of Matt's door twice before taking a step back to wait. I checked my watch. 7:20 am. He's bound to be up by now. Every nerve ending in me has been strung out since last night. I just need to make sure he's okay and that everything went well and then I can go to work. And if it makes me late, Ellison will just have to uncurl his wad. This is important. Suddenly the door lock clicked and I startled a little, deep in thought.

It pulled open to reveal Matt, dressed in his suit for work. His expression was worn and slightly depressed looking and I couldn't help but notice the bandaging on a cut over his left eye. I guess it didn't go as well as I'd hoped. But with a partner like Stick there's bound to be something that goes wrong. "Hey, Alison," he said, slightly reluctant.

"Hey. I take it last night didn't go well?" My tone was hopeful. But he exhaled and stepped back, making room for me to enter, and I knew it wasn't good. I didn't hesitate to walk inside. He shut the door behind me and we stepped into the living room. I turned to him. "What happened?"

"You were right when you said I'd regret it," he answered, sighing. "Everything went fine, as far as the plan goes. But Stick decided he'd break the rules."

I inhaled. "Who did he kill?"

"Turns out this Black Sky was just a boy, probably only as old as Chase." He didn't have to say anything else for me to feel sympathy guilt bubbling up in the pit of my stomach. That psychotic old man killed a little boy. I can't say I'm exactly surprised he killed, but a child? That's crossing the line, even for that lunatic. "Oh, Matt...I'm so sorry," was all I could think to say.

"Thank you, Alison. But feeling sorry about it won't change what's happened," he said, dryly bitter.

"No, it won't," I agreed. "But, Matt...it's okay to-"

"I need to, um- I need to get to work," he announced, interrupting. He turned halfway toward the door, turning away from me. I sunk a little. But I could take a very big hint. I nodded once and started for the door. Something happened he wasn't telling me. I could sense that there was much more to this than just Stick killing a child. If he didn't want to tell me, then I'd just have to respect his wishes and go to work myself.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I walked up to the door to the law firm, my laptop bag hanging from one shoulder and Elizabeth in her car seat in my right hand. Mary's out job hunting so I get to watch my niece all day. It normally wouldn't be a problem. But, Foggy said he needed my help with something. So, here I am. With a baby. This day is off to a terrible start. Alison left me an angry voice mail, explaining that Chase needed picked up at three. Then I'll have two kids to worry about.

I turned the knob and walked in. Foggy, Karen, and Matt were all standing in the main lobby room thing, clearly in the middle of a discussion. Foggy and Karen looked like they'd been sent to the principal's office. "What don't the two of you want me to know?" Matt continued like I hadn't showed up. And based on the look on Karen's face, that was probably a good thing. I closed the door quietly behind me, setting the car seat down on the floor.

Karen looked at Foggy and he shook his head. They didn't tell Matt what they've been doing? But they told me? Karen looked back at Matt. "We're investigating Union Allied," she blurted.

"Remind me to keep you off the witness stand," Foggy said.

"You can't be doing that," Matt ignored Foggy, practically cutting him off.

"Why not?" Karen asked.

"For starters, you signed legal papers and took money to leave it alone."

"No, I signed papers saying I wouldn't go public and I won't."

"We have someone lined up for that part," Foggy said. He then gestured for me to come closer, trying to involve me in his argument. As usual. I shook my head. "What part?" Matt asked. I still don't even know why Foggy needed me. But, if I had to guess…

"Breaking the story, that, uh," Karen said. "Look, whoever is behind Union Allied, or whatever they call themselves now, they are trying to strong arm people like Elena so that they can sweep their homes away from them and build condos no one can afford." I crossed my arms and glared at Foggy. That _is_ why he called me here. Mary was kicked out of her house by these same people. Something I only told Foggy.

"And what do you think's going to happen when these 'whoever's' find out what it is you're up to?" Matt asked. And it's a very good question. I'm on Matt's side. They're been completely unsafe and stupid, for that matter. Foggy's eyes locked onto mine. He swallowed hard, knowing he was in the dog house. "We already took care of it," he told Matt.

"Took care of what?" I asked, not being able to keep myself out of the discussion any longer. I didn't want to seem like I was intruding, because I was, but I'm seriously curious now. Matt glanced at me, then back at Foggy. "Yeah," he agreed. Karen sighed. She tucked her hair behind her ear.

"The, uh, guys who busted up Elena's apartment," she said, clearly not wanting to spill. "They, uh, came after me when I was leaving her place last night." What?! And Foggy _still_ wants to look into this? _What_ is the matter with these guys? I sighed, shocked at what she said. Matt didn't look too happy. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "Foggy was following me."

"Why?" Matt asked. "Why were you following her?"

"She was acting funny," he said.

"No, there was no funny," Karen argued.

"There was a little funny."

"This is what I'm talking about," Matt said. "There are things out there. You can't be doing this. You're gonna get yourselves hurt."

"No, I have already been hurt by those guys," Karen said. "You know, I don't care what I signed or how much money they paid me to forget. I don't. And I'm not just going to stick my head in the sand and let it happen to somebody else because I am scared. Which I am…a lot." Okay, she has a good point. But, you can't-you have to use your brain. Matt went silent.

Foggy turned to Matt, "If you could see her face, you'd know she means it." You don't have to see her to here the fear in her voice.

"Yeah, I kind of got that," Matt said. "Right. Who else is involved?" Foggy looked at me.

"You coned me into coming here," I told him. "I'm not a part of this, unless suede otherwise."

"Who's helping you break whatever it is you think you're going to find out?" Matt asked, walking into his office. The others followed him in, while I hung back at the door. Karen piped up, "Ben Urich, from the Bulletin."

"The one who wrote the Union Allied piece?"

"And Alison's close friend," I crossed my arms and leaned into the door frame. "Don't tell me you two drug her into this." Karen and Foggy quickly shook their heads. "She introduced me to Ben," Karen said, "and that was it." I sighed heavily, looking down. I looked back up and Matt was looking at me. "You met him?"

"Urich?" I asked. He nodded. "Yeah, once. But, he's the one who called me to make sure I had Chase when Alison was taken by those Russians. He seemed more concerned with Chase than Alison. It takes a lot for me to trust someone, but he's close." Matt nodded, thinking.

"I know what I'm doing," Karen said. "I'm not some kid-"

"Then don't act like one," Matt snapped. "Both of you. I know you're just trying to do the right thing here, but we have to be smart about this." Oh, great. Matt's on board. That means I'm Foggy's next victim.

"We?" Foggy asked, suddenly cheerful.

"First rule, no more sulking around, asking to get hurt. We do this, it's going to be on our turf. The legal system."

"That's not nearly as heroic as you might think," Karen sulked, arms crossed.

"I don't want anyone to be a hero," Matt said. "I want you to be safe. And I want to protect this firm and everything we're trying to building. We know the law, we'll use it to our advantage. Agreed?"

"Do we have a choice?" Foggy asked.

"Not so much."

"Yeah, okay," Karen agreed to Matt's terms. "What's the second rule?"

"I don't know," Matt said. "I'm making this up as I go along." He was clearly stressed and deep in thought. After grilling me for being a vigilante, I'm surprised Foggy was going about this the way that he was. I thought I heard something, so I glanced over my shoulder at Elizabeth's car seat. Her feet were kicking off her blanket. Great. I was hoping she'd sleep longer. She'd be okay if I left her there. She's really good about that. But, then she started crying. I sighed. Matt looked up at me. "Is that a baby?"

"Yeah," I sighed, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, she's mine." I pushed off the door frame and then hurried over to her. I knelt down and began unbuckling her. She stopped crying as soon as she saw me. Foggy cleared his throat, "Come again?"

"Sorry. I meant that she's _with_ me," I lifted her out of the car seat and positioned her across my chest.

"Good," Foggy sighed, "for a second there, I thought you had even _more_ secrets."

"No, no, I don't have children," I walked back to them. "This little girl is my niece, Elizabeth. Of course, I call her Lizzie. Her mom hates it."

"Would that be the sister in law from the other day?" Karen asked. I nodded.

"How old?" Matt asked. Foggy walked up to me and practically ripped Lizzie out of my arms. He instantly turned into a kid, making a bunch of stupid faces at her. I looked at Matt, smiling at Foggy, "Almost seven months," I replied. "Mary's job hunting, I'm babysitting. And later I have to get Chase. I should rename my business 'Dylan's Daycare'." Matt and Karen chuckled. Foggy turned Lizzie around, her back against his chest.

"See? This is why you should help us," he said, almost pleading. "Make this city a better place. For _Lizzie_." He, as usual, had way too much enthusiasm. He should do infomercials. I sighed, knowing he was right. But, I've already got leads. I'm working this case already. Have been…just from a different angle. I thought for minute, weighing the pros and cons.

"You do realize you have to have someone for me to investigate."

"Yes! Thank you."

I shrugged. "You're just lucky business is slow." Maybe I can pick up some things that Angel can use. Information is always good to have on hand. "Where do we start?" Foggy grinned from ear to ear. The day was quit uneventful. When I wasn't running down a new lead on my computer I was changing dippers and feeding Lizzie. You know, just your average super hero. Balancing life and work, friends and family…it can be a pain in the biggest part of your butt. But at the end of the day, when I come home to Lizzie and Mary…somehow I know I've made the right choice.

Mary and Foggy are the only two people besides Clint who know I'm Angel and that I once worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Sometimes I wish that weren't the case. I went to Chase's school, sure to get there early, and picked him up. I brought Lizzie with me. All Chase wanted to do was hold her. But I made him wait until we got back to the law firm. Chase burst through the door, too excited to be spending the day at a law firm. Apparently he doesn't like my place at all. He started jumping up and down and doing some other weird moves.

Karen and Foggy looked at me weird. I know what they're thinking: this kid's on Crack. Chase stopped and turned to me. "What do you want to do first?" I finished tucking Lizzie into her car seat for a nap, then stood and looked at him. "That's it?" I asked him. He looked at me funny, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you just invented three new moves to the potty dance, so I was hoping all that was for a good reason," I said it plainly. He glared at me a little miffed. Foggy laughed as he walked passed. Matt came out of his office, chuckling as well, and went to Karen at the front desk. "Okay, kid, look. Today is going to be really boring for you since I'm working and you're not leaving my sight. Your mom already wants me dead. Please just behave. Just like at my place, this is a place of business. If someone comes in, I want you to please find a chair and sit quietly until they leave. Okay?"

"Yeah," he sighed begrudgingly. "I'm never going to be an adult. Adult's are boring." He crossed his arms. I smiled. I think at some point all kids say that. Suddenly he came to life, with a light bulb moment. "I know! I've got a bunch of good jokes." He ran up to Matt and Karen at the desk. "Okay, this one's good. What do you call a sleepwalking nun?" Chase reminds me of Foggy sometimes with the crazy looks he gets. Karen chuckled. Matt turned to him, a hand on his hip.

"I don't know, Chase," Matt played along. I dug my laptop back out of the bag while we all waited for the punch line.

"A roamin' catholic," Chase said. He was drumming it up, trying to make it funnier. I shook my head smiling. Matt and Karen laughed. Foggy appeared out of his office. "That was funny, dude," Foggy said. "What else you got?" Chase smiled and ran up to Foggy.

"Okay, so. A Mexican magician says he'll disappear on the count of three. 'Uno…dos…' poof! He was gone, without a tres." They both started laughing. "Okay. What is Beethoven's favorite fruit?" Chase waited about half a second before answering. "BananaNAAA!" They went on like that for a good thirty minutes. After that, Foggy had to get back to work and Chase was bored again.

"Chase," I called, not even glancing up from my computer. "Homework."

"I'm not at home," he said it like I should've known that. My eyes flicked up from the screen and met his. "Doing homework." He bowed his head and went to his back pack. I heard him rustle through his bag and then slam the book on his lap. It was quiet for about two seconds. Then I hear, "Hey, Dani?"

"Yes, Chase?" I went back to my screen.

"Last one. When is a door not a door?"

"When it's a jar. Now do your work."

"How'd you know that?"

"My brother used to tell me that joke all the time," I sighed.

"Why doesn't he still?" Chase asked. I looked at him. He had a confused look on his face. I went back to my computer, catching a glimpse of Foggy looking at me, waiting for my reaction. I closed my computer and set it aside. "Because…" I thought through my words carefully. He's only ten, he doesn't understand loss like I do. "He passed a while back." Chase's lips formed an O and then he went back to his books. Lizzie was starting to get fidgety, so I was able to pick her up and have something to do. I'd glanced around the room. The others were slowly going back to their work, digesting what I'd told Chase.

Before I knew it, Alison was at the law firm to pick up Chase. She was just as icy as ever. I don't think she'll ever forgive me. Either half of me. But, oh well. If she knew what it is I _really_ do with my nights, I don't think she'd want _anything_ to do with me. I didn't say much to her. She took Chase and left. I sighed with relief. At least she didn't rip my head off again.

We got right back to it. Looking into Union Allied. So far not much. We printed a lot of papers out and thankfully the printer held up. I was waiting for it to break. All of us gathered in one of the offices and Foggy ordered take out for everyone. As with most of my days, it quickly darkened outside. It was like, I blinked and it was night.

I stood, looking over some papers while the others sat at the desk. I'd gotten tired of sitting a while ago. I could never be a couch potato. Never. Foggy sighed in frustration. "This is pointless, Matt," he said. "We should be out on the streets, cracking names and taking skulls." I smiled to myself.

"I think you have that backwards," Karen said what I was thinking. Probably what we all were thinking.

"Not the way I do it."

"Five minutes out there and you'd end up in intensive care," Matt said.

"Hey," Foggy leaned forward on the desk. "I handled myself pretty skippy against baldy and his tattooed gorilla. Tell him, K."

"No, you did," Karen looked up at him confused. "What, I'm 'K' now?"

"Trying something new," he shrugged. "Dani's 'D', or 'DD', whichever way you look at it."

"We can't _all_ have cool nicknames, Foggy," I commented.

"Wait, this is interesting," Matt said. "Confederated Global Investments."

"The company that hired us to defend that bowling alley nut?" Foggy asked.

"Yeah. Karen, do you have a list of the subsidiaries you were able to track down through their check?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah. I think so," she sat down her papers and typed something into her computer. "Yeah, I got it."

"Can you tell me if…Westmeyer-Holt Contracting is on the list?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"They're half a dozen complaints against them for doing the same thing they did at Elena's tenement."

"Confed Global's trying to force renters out of their tenements?" Foggy asked. I thought the same thing. I lowered my papers, thinking.

"What about Elena's land lord?" I asked. "He's gotta know something about this."

"See if I can track him down," Foggy began to stand.

"Use the phone," Matt said and Foggy sighed, sitting back down. "Rule number two."

"Oh, come on!" Foggy sighed.

"Foggy, take it from an expert: phone's always safer," I said.

"Yeah, I know," he grumbled.

"Oh my goodness," Karen said, staring at her computer screen. We all looked at her, waiting for the rest of her statement. "New York Bulletin online just reported that that cop that got shot, he just regained consciousness."

"Detective Blake?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. He was one of the people who Fisk had shot while the Mask and I were trapped inside that building with an angry Russian. I thought he wasn't going to pull through. Or that someone would finish him off. He was one of two cops leading the charge that day. And since, that whole thing was orchestrated by Fisk, it would stand to reason that Blake is one of his. "Okay," Karen was commenting on something Foggy had said. I was tuning him out and missed it. "Nobody knows what really happened out there."

"Blake might," I chimed in. "I'd be curious to see what he's saying."

"Yeah, so would I," Matt said. My cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I quickly dug it out and looked at the screen. Wesley. It's a text. It simply says: 'We need to talk.' I sigh, slipping the phone away. "Everything okay?" I look up at Matt. He wasn't looking at me, but I know the question was mine to answer.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Yeah, I just need to head home. It's late and Mary wants her baby back."

"So, who is he?" Foggy grinned like a child seeing something he knew he shouldn't.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, D. You've clearly got a new man," he said. My mouth gaped, speechless. I searched for the right words but couldn't find them. I'm not even sure what exactly I should be feeling, right now. Can you _really_ tell, or is Foggy playing with me? "Your silence confirms it. Who is he? What does he do?" Foggy instantly turned into the over judgmental 'father figure'. I rolled my eyes, trying to by me sometime. What do I say?

"Well, uh," I started. "He's in law enforcement," I spoke slowly, testing each word as it came out, "and we're just…testing the waters. There's not really a name for it." I shied away, grabbing my coat and slipping it on. "I've only really seen him in uniform. It probably won't last."

"Always such a downer."

"So, you into men with a badge?" Karen asked. Okay, now I think I'm more embarrassed than anything. Who wants to talk about their love life, and then kind of men they find attractive, in front of their coworkers? Not me, that's who.

"No, this would be a first," I sighed.

"All right, leave her alone, guys," Matt said. "She needs to get home, as fun as this is." I knew he was being sarcastic. I mentally thanked him for giving me a chance to leave. I picked up Elizabeth's car seat and then made my way out of the room. "See you guys tomorrow," I said.

"Goodnight, Miss Dylan," Matt said.

Foggy quickly stood. "I'll help you with the door." He walked in front of me, leading the way. He opened the door, stepping back. "Be careful, Dani." His voice was too serious for him. I know, though, what he means. I nod and then head through the door. I headed back home and found Mary waiting for me. I gave her back her baby and then headed off to bed. I was too tired to do anything else. Wesley can just wait till tomorrow.

I woke the next day to my phone vibrating off the night stand. It hit the floor as I sat up. I climbed out of bed and picked it up. Wesley's called me like six times in the last hour. I thought about what he might want as he called again. I sighed and answered it. "Yeah?" I sounded groggier than I meant too.

"You need to keep your masked friends on a leash," he said. I sat up straighter, instantly awake.

"What are you talking about?"

"Last night, the Mask broke into Detective Blake's hospital room while we were trying to take care of the situation. Now, because of his interference, Blake's death is now going to be blamed on the Mask."

"Your idea, I'm sure," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Look. If you don't want this to happen again, then you need to give me something I can satisfy them with. These vigilantes want nothing more than to take down Fisk. And they're very impatient about it." I could hear him sigh on the other end. "What else did you need to talk about?"

"Your friends. Again. They interfered with a shipment that came in a few nights ago. Apparently it had some precious cargo, that was killed. And this one we're not blaming on the Mask, he actually did it," Wesley said. I sighed. Stick. He must've killed the kid after he left the docks. I wander if the Mask knows. He probably does. "Well, isn't that what you want?" I asked. "You want Fisk out of the picture, and now you complain about how it's done? Make up your mind, whose side are you on?"

"Yours." He answered without hesitation. I heard a few noises on the other end before he spoke again. "What do you want me to say?"

"Who really killed Blake?"

"Detective Hoffman. My emplo-" he paused. "Fisk, payed him to do it." Now that's a start. "But, in the end, what they're doing is working. His associates are starting to doubt his ability and the validity of his words. It's just making him more enraged."

"Usually, when people are mad they mess up." I stood and began getting dressed. "I've got a group of people trying to bring him down with the legal system. Is there any chance he'd make someone mad enough to just…finish him off?"

"That's highly unlikely. The only one with that chance is the Mask."

"No, he's not a killer."

"So it would seem," he said, almost disappointed. "Have you told Alison about any of this?"

"No, not yet. But don't worry, she's safe. And Chase." I walked out into the main lobby, Mary just coming out of her room. She looked ready for another day of job hunting. "Look, okay, the only way any of this is going to turn out the way you want is if you tell me Fisk's next move before it happens. If I don't know what he's doing, I can't protect her from him. And if you're really on my side in all of this, and you mean what you say, then I think it's about time you grew a pair and made sure the people you care about stay safe. Like you said, if he found out you'd been lying to him who knows what he'd do."

There was a long pause on the other end. For a second, I thought he'd hung up. Mary stared at me, wide eyed. She hasn't heard me talk to anyone like that. Frankly, I'm even shocked that I said it. But right now, if that's what it's going to take, then so be it. "I'll let you know when I know something," was all he said before the line went dead. I nodded to myself and hung up.

Elizabeth and I spent the day at the law firm again, like yesterday. So far, there's not much for me to do. I'm mainly just another pair of eyes on the computers. I picked up Chase at three and brought him to the law firm. He wasn't too thrilled, but I don't blame him. He spent most of his time entertaining Elizabeth. And because of that, she spent most of the day awake. Which I guess is good. She'll go right to sleep tonight, which will please Mary. Alison picked up Chase with the same iciness as the other day.

I don't know how long she plans on keeping this up but it's getting annoying. If she only knew the real reason. I spent the rest of the day distracted by the idea. I ran a million different scenarios in my head, all about what would happen if I told her I was Angel. Since she's not too pleased with Angel or Dani, finding out that the two are one might not be a good idea.

Everyone only talked briefly about Blake's death. It was front page news. The world is blaming the Mask, just like Wesley said. That's good for Fisk, but not us. I didn't stay at the law firm late. I headed home not too long after Alison picked up Chase. Mary was there when I arrived. I lugged the car seat through the front door, tired from a long day. "How'd it go?"

"Great," Mary said. "I think I've got a couple possibilities."

"Good. But, I'm not sure I'm ready to become a full time babysitter," I said, plopping down on the couch. She laughed and picked up her baby. "Dinner's ready, if you want it," she said. I sighed and kicked off my boots. I opened my mouth to reply, when my phone rang. I sighed ruefully as I pulled it out of my pocket. It was the Mask, on Angel's phone.

"I need to take this," I said, standing. I walked to my bed room and closed the door before answering. "You okay?"

"I take it you heard about the other night," he said.

"Yeah, half the world knows. But, that didn't answer my question."

"Yeah, I'm alright," I could almost hear a smile in his voice. "We need to get Fisk out into the light, let the people see who the real enemy is. So far, we've been fighting an uphill battle, which seems to be going nowhere. But, if we could expose him-"

"Then maybe things might start going our way," I finished.

"Exactly."

"Okay. Where do I meet you?" I asked. He rattled off a meeting spot. It sounds about ten minutes away. I wrapped up the phone call and then went out of the room and told Mary. Then, I changed into Angel's costume. I filled my quiver and then slid my folded bow into it's holster on my leg. Clint managed to get me a new grappling hook, so a brought that with, too. Of course, last time didn't go so well. I think I'll save it for emergencies. I headed out the roof access and quickly made my way to the spot where he told me to meet him.

The Mask was on the roof waiting when I got there. I checked my watch. Apparently I'd made it here in five minutes. Still a little slow, in my opinion. "So, what am I doing here?" I asked, walking toward the Mask. He smiled, watching me approach. "You know of Ben Urich?" he asked. I nodded. "He's the one I want to right the article about Fisk. He's in the building over, running down a lead on a different story. I figured he might be a little more willing if you were here." Just as he spoke Urich walked out of the building and to his car.

"Yeah," I sighed, as he began making our descent down the building and to Urich. "The whole 'Devil' part really puts a wrench in things." We reached the bottom of the fire escape. "Does wonders for you love life, though." I heard a slight chuckle out of him before we reached Urich. He, of course, didn't see us coming. He dropped his keys, bent to pick them up. And in the middle of a down pour, no less. He nearly dropped a brick in is shorts when he stood and saw the Mask standing behind him. "We need to talk."

Urich continued to stand there motionless, scared out of his mind. I walked up and stood next to the Mask. Urich seemed to soften a bit, but was still uneasy and on guard. "Do you know who I am?" the Mask asked. Urich took off his water soaked glasses, then starred at both of us. "The Devil of Hell's Kitchen," he said. Then looked at me. "That makes you the Angel." I nodded.

"Do you believe what they're saying about him?" I asked, gesturing toward the Mask. Urich looked at me a second, then the Mask.

"You've been in an awful lot of wrong places at the wrong time lately," Urich said. "But, I've heard the other stories. About the man in the mask, helping people. Sounds like maybe there's more than one side to you." He looked at me. "To the both of you."

"I didn't blow the hell out of the Russians," the Mask said. "And I didn't shoot those cops."

"So, what? You want me to write your side of this? Like was done for her?" he gestured toward me.

"No," I said. "The only reason I'm here is so you'll give this serious thought. We want to take down the man behind all of this, the one who's been framing the Mask from the start. Most of those rumors running around, of the Mask, I was there, too. In Alison's story she only mention's one rescuer. But really there were two."

"So why leave you out?" Urich asked the Mask.

"Because I'm not the man who should be on the front page," he replied. "A man named Wilson Fisk is. He's the one who's been tearing this city apart, piece by piece."

"Never heard of him."

"And he doesn't want you too," I said. "He's been living in the shadows for too long. The only way to save this city is to expose him for the man that he really is."

"Says the people in the masks."

"Why do you think that article was written about me? I'm here to help, we both are. And I know you want to, too. So, help us by exposing the man who's causing this city to fall to it's knees."

"Why me? There are lots of other reporters."

"Because there are people who trust you, Ben," the Mask said. "And I have faith in their judgment."

"Union Allied. Guess that was you two who dumped that guy on the doorsteps of the Bulletin?"

"I think he's connected to Fisk."

"The woman you two saved that night? She's a good kid. Still believes you're heroes, despite what everyone's saying."

"People like her are why I do this," the Mask said.

"Fisk is a tyrant," I said, "who's just going to keep hurting people until he gets what he wants. People like Alison." As soon as the words left my mouth, I clearly had his attention. "The Russians who kidnapped her were working for Fisk, and following his orders." Urich didn't say anything, deep in thought. After a long patch of silence, he came back to life.

Urich took a few steps closer. "What do you got?" The Mask sprang to life and began telling him all we had so far. It took a while of standing there in the rain, but in the end it was worth it. Urich could only do so much from his end, since most of what we had was he said's and she said's. We talked with him as long as it took. It felt like forever. Urich finally agreed to write the story, to expose Fisk.

After leaving Urich, we climbed back up the fire escape, to the roof where we were. We got to the top and I slid off my quiver. I held the bunch of arrows in one hand and then turned the quiver upside down. Like a gallon of water spilled out onto the ground. The Mask smiled as I stuffed the arrows back into it. "What?" I asked, rhetorically, slightly chuckling. I put my quiver back into it's place.

"Thank you for coming. I don't think he would've agreed without you here."

"Anytime," I said. "This is off subject…but, did you know that that Stick character finished off the kid?" He went a little stiff.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"A lead I was running down the other day. I guess Nobu ran to Fisk crying about the loss of his 'precious cargo'. From what I can tell, Fisk's allies are starting to question him."

"Good."

"But, I'm sorry about that."

"Yeah, me too," the Mask said. I sighed, crossing my arms. The rain had stopped about ten minutes ago, leaving me cold and soaked to the bone. "I'm going to call it a night," I said, with a slight shiver. The Mask nodded. "Do me a favor?" He paused and looked at me, his head slightly tilted to one side. "Keep me in the loop more? Don't hesitate to call." He walked up to me, resting one hand on my arm and the other on my cheek.

"I promise," he said.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I finished printing off my recovery article and headed for Ben's office. I knocked twice before opening the door enough to poke my head in. "Ben?" He sat behind his desk, fingers typing away at his keyboard. His head popped up with an eyebrow raised. "Sorry, I didn't know you were busy," I apologized, feeling a bit bad for interrupting.

"No, it's fine. Come in," he gestured out with his hand, motioning for me to close the door. I stepped in and pulled the door shut behind me. "What is it?" I moved over to stand in front of his desk and dropped the article papers bound together by a paperclip onto the desk in front of him. He looked down at it a second, then he slowly picked it up. I could tell he was reading so I waited to say anything. A slow ebb of anxiousness formed in my side.

What if it was hideous? Maybe that's why he wasn't saying anything? I clasped my hands together at stomach level. Suddenly a smiled spread across his face and he started flipping through the pages to see it's length. "Alison, this..." he looked up at me with bright eyes. "This is amazing! I think this is your best piece yet—well, besides The Angel of Hell's Kitchen. That one's my personal favorite—but this is impeccable. Have you shown it to Ellison yet?"

I smiled as I bit down the urge to squeal in excitement. I shook my head. "No, not yet. It's really that good?"

"It's perfect, Alison, it really is," he nodded. A faint whisper caught my attention and I glanced right. The news was playing on his television. My stomach lurched at the headline. _Wilson Fisk Pledges Aid to Hell's Kitchen_. Wilson Fisk? The guy Matt asked me about. "Can you turn that up, please?" I asked, moving closer to the screen. Ben turned it up loud enough for us both to hear with his remote, and I crossed my arms.

". _..I felt the need to speak up for this city that I love with all my heart. No one should have to live in fear. In fear of madmen...who have no regard for who they injure. In fear of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen who has inflicted untold pain and suffering. This masked terrorist and psychopaths of his kind, we must show them we will not bow down to their campaign of coercion and intimidation. We must stand up to them. As this man, my dearest friend, Leland Owlsley, a pillar in the financial community..._ "

My fingers tightened around my upper arms, gripping them so tightly my knuckles turned white. The camera panned left to Leland Owlsley. I recognized the name from last night. Matt and Stick were talking about his involvement with Stick. As it panned, it moved just far enough that I saw _him_. Steve Dawson, standing at Leland's right. The man I thought I loved before he beat me and threatened my life multiple times. My eyes rounded. He's involved with Fisk?

Fisk continued, " _I tried to do this quietly, not wanting to draw attention. The last thing I wanted was for anyone close to me to become a target from those who do not share my dream. For those who will have this city stay exactly as it is, mired in poverty and crime. But I know now it was foolish to make that decision. That I can no longer do it alone. That I cannot keep living in the shadows...afraid of the light. None of us can. None of us should be forced to. We must do this together..._ "

I nabbed the remote from Ben's desk and slammed my finger into the mute button. My blood boiled with pure rage. This guy has done so many horrible things and all he has to do to void everything Matt's done, is come on TV and say a few words. Playing it like he's the hero. My chest heaved a bit, and I took a deep breath to try and calm myself. "Alison, are you alright?" Ben asked, sounding concerned.

"No, I'm not alright. Look at this!" I raised my voice, throwing a finger toward the screen as I turned to see him. "Wilson Fisk is _not_ the good guy, and my ex is standing at his side!"


	16. Repairs

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I dropped into the office chair in my cubical, deflated, resting my elbows on the edge of my desk. My head fell into my hands and I closed my eyes. Seeing that man again, I almost think, was worse than hearing anything that Wilson Fisk had to say. My skin crawled and the space between my eyes ached now. "Alison," My heart leapt into my throat as I snapped upright, looking left. Ellison eyed me a moment in pause, then he sighed and shook his head. "Do have the recovery piece?"

"Oh...yeah." I grabbed the pages from my desk and held them out to him. He took the small bunch and looked them over. "Good," he nodded. "Have you switched to decaf yet? I think it would help with the jitters." I sighed and shook my head, my eyes feeling heavy.

"Sorry, not yet."

"Is everything alright? You look like you've seen a ghost," his eyes narrowed at me. That's because I did see one. And he was on television, looking as smug as ever. I inhaled and shook my head, waving it away. "I'm fine, just tired," I lied, with a small smile.

"Tired? The day just started," he pointed out. "I think you need to slim down on office hours, Fletcher. There's no time for you or your boy. You've got some vacation days saved up-"

"Thanks, Ellison. I actually already quit my diner job," I explained, lightly.

"Wow, good for you. That must feel nice, not working two jobs?" he commented, making small talk as he leaned into the doorway to the cubical. I nodded with a brief widening of eyes and an exhale. Just then, someone down the aisle called for him and he hurried off. I slouched in my chair as soon as he was gone. The rest of work, I couldn't think. My mind was too busy on other things to be bothered with trivial issues for a paper.

But finally work ended—Ellison let me go an hour early. This was good, because I had someone coming at seven to evaluate the damages of the upstairs in my new building. Mostly so that I can know how long it will take for Chase and me to be able to move in. The downstairs...that would take a lot to fix and I wasn't going to rush it. It would be ready whenever I was able to finish it.

So I got in my car and started driving. I first stopped at my apartment to change into something more comfortable. Then, on the way to the building, I did my best to psych myself up. Try to keep myself together, make myself seem happy, conceal my anger. Just act like nothing happened. I parked my car along the sidewalk and headed inside. Of course, there was no electricity or running water yet, so I couldn't turn on any lights. Not that I had light bulbs for the fixtures anyway.

I dropped my bag and jacket on the counter at the back of the building. Just then, a hollow knock echoed in the empty space. I hurried to the door and pulled it open. The repairman that was scheduled to show up in five minutes stood outside with an easy smile and paint splattered clothes. His name tag read _Albert C_. I smiled. "Hi. You must be from the repair company?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he nodded once. "You have some repairs you'd like priced?"

"Yeah, come on in. They're upstairs." I pulled the door open all the way and he stepped inside with a thankfully nod. I closed the door behind him and gestured for him to follow as I started up the left stairway. Every board creaked quite loudly as we climbed up to the second level. It was another thing I would need to put on my ever-growing to do list. "What did you want priced?" Albert C. asked.

We stopped mid-living room and I turned to him. "Well...there's a lot to do. It's kind of like those houses on House Flip?" I explained.

He gave a knowing look and glanced around. "The main room doesn't look too bad. You'd probably just want to replace the carpet in case of bugs," he said, thinking aloud. He stepped past me to look at the kitchen setup. I followed an inch or two behind with my hands clasped at my middle. He examined the refrigerator and stove carefully before saying anything else. "You'll want to get these appliances replaced—mostly for safety reasons. They pose fire hazards."

"Okay...um, do you know how much those would cost new?" I asked, curiously.

He turned to me, humming a second in thought. "Well, for the fridge...probably a couple thousand. You can get something basic for six-hundred depending on brands," he explained. Inwardly I cringed. It was more pricey than I thought. Great. He continued, "Once again, going basic you could get a stove for probably around four-hundred dollars? It's really all about the brand you buy from." I nodded and he started examining the cupboards.

I added it up in my head when he finished with the main room that the probable cost for this room alone was around three to four-thousand dollars. Because not only do you have to pay for materials, but you pay for labor. And I only know how to install or fix a fraction of what needs to be done. We moved onto the bathroom next. He said that the only thing needing to be actually replaced would be the toilet. And same in the bedrooms as the living room—new carpeting.

At roughly thirty dollars per square yard, I'm looking at a small fortune in carpet alone. I'd just have to find the cheapest carpet possible and install in myself. Can't be too hard, right? When he finally finished with the upstairs completely, I was a bundle of stress. So many things whirled around in my head at once—it was almost too much. Thankfully the repair company I got this guy from—Lu's Home and Auto Repair—it was a free appraisal.

After showing Albert C. to the door, I grabbed my keys and headed out for the nearest Lowes. Which, thankfully for me, wasn't too far away. I wrote up a list before entering the store of what I was getting on this trip. Mostly paints and carpets for the upstairs, but other things included light fixtures, light bulbs for the fixtures, and pricing a fridge and stove—possibly getting one of each, depending on price. I had money now but it wasn't a lot. I still had to go cheap on _everything_ just to make sure I had enough for all that I needed.

It took me half an hour to go through the paints. I wanted it to look good with whatever carpet I chose, so I had to shop for carpet first, and that too was even longer than at the paints. Eventually, I emerged with enough to paint the bedrooms, carpet the entire upstairs, and replace the lighting. The fridge and stove would have to wait. I wasn't in the mood to look at those. So I paid for what I had and headed back to the building. The rolls of carpet were a bit hard to stuff into the back of my car.

I had to fold down all the back seating and even then it was a tough squeeze. The other things had to cram into the passenger seat and foot area to make room. When I arrived at the building, another car was parked along the sidewalk. At first I didn't recognize it. But then it hit me as I slid out. _Dani._ I sighed just as she stepped out of her car, shutting the door behind her. I shoved my door shut and met her halfway on the sidewalk.

"Why are you here?" I asked, dryly, sliding my hands into my jacket pockets.

"Chase said you bought a building," she glanced up at the building, eyeing it. "Had to see it to believe, I guess."

"Uh-huh. Well, you've seen it."

"Alison, we need to talk. It's important." Her tone was suddenly very serious, and the creases on her face almost darkened, dampening the mood. My eye brows knitted together in confusion. She needed to talk about something important? I _do_ have a cell phone. Begrudgingly, I gestured for her to follow me as I headed for the door. "Fine," I nodded.

She followed me inside and I closed the door behind her. Dani took a second to look around, but she wasted no time in turning to me. "I know you pretty much hate me right now, but I wanted to explain a few things," she started. I crossed my arms, unimpressed, as she continued. "There's a good reason for why I've been a horrible babysitter...I'm the Angel of Hell's Kitchen." I paused. Then I burst into laughter at the heinous idea.

Dani, a vigilante? Seriously? "You're kidding, right?" I tried to reign myself in.

"Nope," she shook her head seriously. Her seriousness made me stop for a minute. I had a stress flashback to the night she dragged the mask into my apartment. Miraculously she disappears right before Angel shows up? Then the other night, with the explosions. Dani was nowhere to be found but Angel was with Matt at the warehouse. Oh no...she used Dani's satellite to find a way in. My face dropped, my stomach turning sour. Dani was the one that saved me from Steve ten years ago.

Dani's the one I wrote my article about. I've been leaving my son in the care of a masked vigilante. I can foresee a _worst mother of the year_ trophy coming my way. And a _worst friend ever_ trophy, too. Crud. "Dani..." I was speechless. She smiled a closed-mouth smile, like she knew I was just starting to get it. "You're Angel? You're the one the mask has been calling for backup every night?"

She nodded slowly. "Yep."

"Wait a second. Do you know who he is?"

Her eyes squinted. "No...do you?"

"No," I quickly shook my head, hoping it would be enough. Thankfully she didn't ask about it again. She left that bit alone. Her demeanor shifted a bit. "Now you see why I've been such a flake. I didn't want to be, Alison," she explained. "It just worked out that way, and I'm so sorry for using Chase. He was really good at it and I was kind of in a life or death situation. I take full responsibility for that."

I couldn't think of how to respond. Everything in my head was crisscrossed at the moment. I nodded once, relaxing my shoulders. All annoyance and anger I had toward her fizzled, leaving me deflated, feeling stupid. I should've put it together already. My head was in other places, so it didn't make sense. Now I'm the one that needs to apologize. "I'm sorry, too, Dani," I said, genuinely. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because then it would be the worst kept secret in the history of worst kept secrets," she said.

"Right," I saw her point.

"You wouldn't happen to need any help with those rolls of carpet in your car, would you?" she asked, semi-sarcastically. My eyebrows raised. How did she know I had carpet in my car? Is she psychic, too? "Your car has windows." Then I nodded once, finally getting it, realizing again that my mind was betraying me. I think they have medication I could take for this. "Uh, sure, thanks," I tried to widen a smile as I turned for the door. Dani followed me out to the back of my car.

I opened the door and sighed, eyeing all the rolls. "This is all carpet? For what, the Taj Mahal?" Dani asked, eyes widened.

"It's also carpet padding," I explained. She nodded like she got it and then half lifted a roll, testing it's weight. She turned to me. "I'll get one end...you take the other?" she suggested, shrugging.

I nodded. "Alright." She returned the nod and gripped the first roll. She pulled it out enough that I could reach the end, and I hefted the weight up into my arms. Dani walked backwards while I went forward and we maneuvered the roll into the building. It was a bit of a squeeze through the doorframe, but we managed. "Just drop the roll here. I can take them up as I need them," I instructed, as we made it into the first floor.

"Got it, boss." Dani dropped her end, the weight not hard for her to hold up. The muscles in _my_ arms, however, were a bit tender still. I eased my end to the floor and stood upright with an inhale. I told myself that if I just hurried it up a bit and got all the rolls in I would be done that much faster and have it over with. So I wasted no time in joining Dani at the back of my car for the next one. It took us a while, but we got in all the rolls. The next task was taking up what I needed for the bedrooms.

I would do those first since they'd be the easiest. Except I have to take out the old carpet, paint the walls, and then I can put in the new carpet. It was a lot for one person. And I was thankful that Dani was here, that way it wouldn't just be me. "What's first?" she asked, glancing around. I couldn't help but notice the slight wrinkle of her nose. The place is a dump, I know. But it's my dump.

"Well, I need to get the carpet out of the upstairs. You up for a project?" I asked, sounding hopeful. I clasped my hands together at chin level, my eyes pleading, and smiled wide. She rolled her eyes, but I could see the faint crack of a smile at the corners of her lips. "Sure. Let's do it," she agreed.

"Awesome. Upstairs we go." I started for the stairs, Dani not too far behind. She made a minor sound of disgust as I reached the stairs and I glanced back at her over my shoulder. "What?" I raised an eyebrow. She shook her head, climbing the steps. "You sound like your son," she said, not sounding too impressed.

I scoffed. "He _is_ mine."

"Unfortunately." We reached the top of the stairs and I turned, landing a good smack to her arm. She laughed and rubbed the spot like it hurt—even though none of my hits ever do—and I fought the urge to smile. It was pretty easy getting started once I reminded myself how to tear out carpet. We started in the main room. Dani let me use her iPhone—more specifically her Pandora account—to play music while we worked. She was on the far left corner of the room while I was on the right.

"So the mask is still showing at your place?" Dani said, suddenly, talking loudly to be heard not only over the music but from far away.

I didn't know how to respond. "Uh...yeah, sometimes." She nodded and silently went back to work. Her actions seemed odd to me, but I filed it away and continued pulling back the carpet. Only a moment later did she start talking again. "Has he mentioned me to you at all?" she asked, not looking up.

I paused, sitting back on my knees. I glanced at her. "Dani. What is this about?"

"Don't go all ' _mom friend'_ on me."

"You have the hots for him, don't you?" My lips broke into a wide, cheesy smile. She let out a mixture of a groan and a sigh, shaking her head. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything," she mumbled. I huffed a chuckle and turned back to the carpet. I waited a second, then replied, "He hasn't said much."

Recalling our conversation this morning, Matt actually didn't hardly say anything to me. Thinking of it made me think of something else in the process and I turned my head to see Dani. "Please tell me you kicked Stick in the balls," I said.

She stopped to look at me, sitting back. "You can't stand him either?"

"Not in the slightest," I shook my head, mirroring her position. "He's such a jerk. He kept calling me ' _kid'_."

"Me, too! What a turd wad." She bent to pull out more carpet when my ears caught a familiar sound. I turned to look back at Dani's cell phone near the stairs. It was easy to recognize the song. " _Late at night, I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need_..."

Dani sat up with a rueful demeanor, closing her eyes. "Please no," she said.

" _I need a hero! I'm holding on for a hero 'till the end of the night_..."

I smiled knowingly at Dani and she shook her head. "Ugh. Change it, _please_ ," she begged.

"What? I love this song," I gaped.

"Not around me, you don't." I couldn't quite tell if she was joking or not. But my response was cut off by a knock echoing up the stairs. I pushed myself up to my feet and started for the stairs. "You're just gonna have to deal with it, Dylan," I tossed the words over my shoulder as I started down.

"Deal with what, your terrible taste in music?" she called.

"It's not that bad!" I hollered the words up the stairs as I hit the bottom. I hurried to the door, noticing it had gotten quite dark out. I pulled it open and my easy going smile paused. "Hey, Alison," Foggy smiled. "Working late?" I pulled back the door and ushered him in as I responded. "Yeah, Dani was just helping me with the carpet upstairs," I said, shutting the door. Foggy turned toward me, a few feet away. I turned back to him and forced my smile wider.

"What brings you by?" I asked, loosely crossing my arms.

"Oh, uh, Chase said you'd be stopping by here after work and I thought I'd see if you needed any help," he explained, cheerily. "Also, I was going to ask you if you wanted to retry our movie date."

"That was nice of you. Actually...I've been meaning to talk to you about that-"

"You're not interested in dating," he guessed, throwing an assumption into the wind. I smiled a closed-mouth smile and shook my head. If only it were that simple. There were a lot of things I needed to say. Things that I needed to explain. I tried to stuff it into simple words and small sentences. "Foggy...I like you. I _really_ do. But the last guy I dated tried to kill me," I explained, lightly. Then I quickly added, "And I know you're not him—you're a really nice guy. It's just...the last person I kissed _was_ him."

His expression was of understanding as he listened somewhat intently. I could still make out some of the words to the music upstairs. Dani must have changed it, because now instead of Bonnie Tyler I heard Daughtry. I took in a breath. "I want this to work," I continued. "I just don't know if I'm ready for anything extravagant yet."

"I'm sorry, Alison. I wasn't thinking when I tried to kiss you," he apologized, genuinely.

"No, no- don't apologize," I stopped him, absentmindedly taking a step forward. "If I hadn't chickened out, I would be telling you I enjoyed it, right now."

He smiled cheesily. "Well, my lips will still be right here on my face when you're ready to try again." I smiled warmly. It was nice to feel like he actually understood why I didn't kiss him on our date. It's the kind of thing I never got with Steve. He was never able to get me. No matter what it was, he just couldn't wrap his head around it. But Foggy got it. And he was nice about it. He made me feel accepted regardless.

It felt like the stress was drained from my shoulders, the weight gone. I took another step forward. "And if I said..." my fingers fidgeted with the fabric of his suit jacket collar. "...I wanted to try again now?"

"Then I wouldn't stop you," His voice was quiet, serious. I honestly didn't know what would happen if I kissed Foggy right then. But I felt the urge to try it anyway. He wasn't too much taller than me—only a couple inches maybe—but I rose up the space needed and his lips met mine halfway. I let my eyes fall closed, making myself relax. A light, airy feeling filled my stomach. The kiss was slow, sweet, gentle. I hadn't actually kissed anyone in just over a decade.

But I think I'm doing alright. After a short moment, his lips slid from mine, staying close as he parted, ending the kiss. My eyes opened. "How was that?" he asked. How was it? _Liberating_. Incredibly liberating. If there was a word for something more, I would use it. I smiled, trying to resist the urge to kiss him again. "Amazing," I replied.

I heard the steps creaking a second before I could register Dani walking into the room. "Alison, what is taking you so-" I glanced left just as she stopped herself, slapping a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She started shaking her head. "Never mind. You here to make out or help us out, Nelson?"

"Both, I hope," Foggy smiled brightly and Dani visibly gagged.

"Okay, well, when you're done..." She jutted a thumb over her shoulder at the stairs before starting up them. I turned back to Foggy with an amused smile. "What do you say? Help a girl out?" I asked. My hand in his and our fingers interlocked. He nodded once, smiling more brightly than before. "Why not? Lord knows I could use the exercise," he agreed, sarcastically. I laughed and shook my head.

I tugged him to the stairs behind me and he followed easily. "Follow me, then." We started climbing the stairs. Halfway up, I heard him ask behind me, "Did I ever tell you my mom wanted me to be a butcher?"


	17. The Dynamic Duo

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

"This doesn't change anything, Ben," Karen assured, walking around the desk. I crossed my arms, my fingers barely touching my lips. I wish I had that kind of faith. "Except, now we know who your king of diamonds is," Foggy added, referring to Ben's peg board. I'd seen it coming in and out of his office the past few days. Ben didn't look so convinced. His eyebrows raised. "You see the news? Everything's changed," he reached into his bag and pulled out a paper, holding it out to Karen.

She took it and unfurled it to read the front page. I already knew what was on it. I knew before printing. Fisk and his brat pack of low life scumbags. Today's headline: _A Better Tomorrow_. Dani had disappeared into the kitchen area a short while ago. I briefly wondered if she fell in. "Fisk has gotten out in front of being dragged into the spotlight. Our editor thinks he's the second coming," Ben continued, thrusting an arm toward me at the word _our_. "The whole city does."

My eye brows rose as I sighed knowingly. Ellison was on my nerves all day yesterday. He wouldn't stop talking about how great Fisk was for the city and how 'finally we're all gonna get some peace.' Right. I don't think Hell's Kitchen would know what peace is if it walked up and punched it in the face. "So, we just keep digging," Karen said, trying to sound hopeful.

"I've been doing that. Internet went from having nothing on Fisk to filled with three hanky stories about a poor little fat kid from Hell's Kitchen," Karen's face dropped at Ben's words. "Abandoned by his father when he was twelve. Mother died a year later. Now look at him—boot straps and a big dream."

"Somebody knows something," Foggy pressed, standing across from me in the group. "It's just a matter of asking the right people the right questions in the right tone of voice."

"And that, my friend, is how you end up beaten half to death in an alley." Dani's sarcastic tone echoed for a second as she exited the kitchen with a steaming mug. I turned my head to give her a look as she stood to my right. "Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine," I said.

She held up a hand in defense. "I haven't had my coffee yet and this is my time off. Talk at your own risk." I sighed and turned back to the group. Foggy looked miffed. But he stood up straight and looked to me. "You think I'm right, right Ally?" he asked. It would take a lot to miss the subtle plea in his tone and the way his eyebrow curved up just slightly. I wanted to say I did. But I couldn't.

I pursed my lips and shook my head. "I don't think it's a good idea, Fog," I disagreed, apologetically. "You guys could get yourselves in some deep problems." Just then, Matt entered the law firm. He nodded once as he shut the door. "That's what I keep telling them," he agreed. "Maybe they'll listen to the smart ones."

"Um, Ben this is Matt Murdock," I turned toward Matt. "Matt this is Ben Urich, we work at the Bulletin together." Matt stepped forward with an easy, closed-mouth smile and held out a hand in the general direction of Ben. I knew it was mostly an act. He knew where Ben was. Ben held out a hand and shook Matt's. "Mr. Murdock," he greeted. "Alison's told me quite a bit about you."

"Please, just Matt is fine. And she says good things about everyone, so," Matt smiled.

"My partner thinks we should be pursuing this through the legal system," Foggy informed.

"A lot safer that way," Ben nodded, approving as he turned to see both of them. Exactly, safe. That's what we need to be. I couldn't help but notice Foggy's ever present partial scowl. And I hadn't talked to Matt since his apartment the other morning, when he practically told me to get out. It's cold winds from both men. Just what I need. I only caught the end of Karen's whining. "...we need to do something."

"If we were the only ones after him, I'd tend to agree. Friend of yours came to see me the other night...The Man in the Mask," Ben said. My eyes rounded and I looked to Matt. He walked over toward me and stood at Dani's right. Dani looked to be listening close to the conversation, hardly paying attention to anything else. "Terrorist cop-killer," Foggy commented.

"Foggy!" I whisper-yelled in a slight snap.

"He says he was framed," Ben continued, ignoring me and Foggy. Foggy gave me a _what for?_ look and I tried for my best _you know what for_. He sighed and turned back to Ben. "I could say I'm Captain America, but that doesn't put wings on my head," he said.

Karen held up a hand to shush him, focusing on Ben. "What did he want?"

"Same thing we do...expose Fisk. And he wasn't alone. Apparently he's teaming up with The Angel on this one," Ben replied. Foggy's eyebrows scrunched together and he looked over in my and Dani's direction. Dani shrugged in an odd way and ignored him, causing Foggy to huff. It didn't surprise me Dani would go there as Angel. But with Matt? And Matt didn't tell me about it? What am I even here for?

Ben plunged a hand into his bag and pulled out a small ream of papers. "Printed this from the thumb drive he gave me," he said, holding it out to Karen. She took the papers and started reading. Not a second later and she was gasping, moving back around the behind the desk. "Told me Fisk was behind the bombings and shooting those cops, said he owns half the police, that they helped him take down the Russians," Ben continued.

"But I don't understand. If you have all of this, then-"

"Hearsay. Can't print any of it without corroboration, can you?" Matt spoke up.

"He could just be throwing smoke," Foggy tried again. "I mean, he just killed Detective Blake."

"They said Blake's partner Hoffman did it," Ben contradicted. "Probably on Fisk's orders. But, yeah, it occurred to me." I sighed and stepped forward, dropping my hands to my sides. I couldn't keep my mouth shut any longer. "Just talk to Hoffman," I said.

"Tried. He's in the wind. Or, bottom of the river. Either way..." Ben said, turning to me with a shrug. I ran my hands up my face and Foggy said, "He just shrugged," as a queue to Matt. I re-crossed my arms and stepped back, leaning my lower half back into the wall. "What about the Union Allied money? Is there a way that we can tie it directly to Fisk?" Karen asked, standing up from the desk.

"Maybe. According to the Mask, a man named Leland Owlsley runs the books. But since getting roughed up by him, Owlsley's been surrounded by Fisk's security. Can't get anywhere near him. Same with James Wesley, the guy you said hired you to defend Healy," Ben explained. James Wesley. Or Steve Dawson. However you want to look at it they are the same person. Which one is the real identity, is the question.

I sighed. "There has to be some shred of evidence somewhere from Fisk. You don't just disappear completely, there's always something left, right?" I looked to Dani. She nodded, though looking unconvinced of the idea. "What about Confederated Global?" Foggy asked, backing me up. "The suit that hired us? Standing right next to Fisk when he gave his big speech."

I sent a thankful look across the room and Foggy replied with a short nod, but he looked slightly sympathetic. Probably because we were now constantly bring up Steve. Or James. Whoever the- "I looked into it. According to FCC filings, Confed Global's where Fisk gets most of his reported income," Ben said.

"Alright, let's play this out," Matt stepped into center room. "If Fisk is connected to Confed Global, that means he's involved in Westmeyer-Holt Contracting."

"The morons that kicked my sister-in-law out of her apartment," Dani said, sounding bitterly annoyed.

"And Elena," Karen added.

"Westmeyer-Holt to Confed to Fisk," Matt finished. "We pull that thread, see what unravels." Seems solid. For now.

"Still not so sure about this Mask guy," Foggy commented.

"He didn't hurt Ben and he didn't hurt me," Karen spoke up. "I'll take the Devil of Hell's Kitchen over Fisk any day. Plus, he's awesome. No, you should have seen the way he was flipping around in the rain." I glanced at Matt. He wore the biggest smirk and no one even cared to notice. "Well, if he's so awesome, why did he come to Ben?" Foggy countered. "Why not just take Fisk down himself?"

"Sometimes it takes more than that, Foggy. You think it's easy but when you get there you wish you'd stayed home," Dani said, sipping her coffee. "It's not always black and white. Most of the time it's in your face in neon."

"You're just full of wisdom today," Foggy commented, trying to lighten the mood. I didn't hear if Dani said anything back, I was too focused on trying to dig my cell phone out of my purse. I checked the clock. "Alison, what's up?" I glanced up. Dani was leaning slightly toward me.

"We've gotta get going. You know, for that thing?" Dani nodded, suddenly thinking of it herself, and went to the door for her coat. I turned to the group. "Sorry, guys, Dani and I have to head out." I started for the door after a brief wave, but Foggy beat me to it, opening it for me. "I'll walk you out," he smiled. I smiled back a closed-mouthed smile and stepped out of the office. Foggy and Dani followed behind, closing the door. Dani eyed me a second.

"Don't make us late," she said, sarcastically pointed. I nodded sharply in a mock military way and she started for the stairs. Foggy turned to me as soon as she was out of sight, exhaling. "Look, Alison...I don't want our different opinions on the Mask to change _us_ ," he explained. "I'm sorry if what I said in there was a little-"

"Foggy, it's fine, really," I assured, putting a hand on his arm.

"It doesn't look fine," he pointed out, eyeing me with sarcastic suspicion.

"That's not you, I promise," I moved back a step.

"Was it Steve?" he asked, quieter, like he was afraid to say the word. I nodded in a so-so way and he nodded in understanding, before wrapping his arms around me in a hug. With anyone else I would normally think this was weird. But Foggy was naturally overly understanding and supportive of me and my many issues. Which I was thankful for. I don't think I could handle dating anyone else right now. "I'll be fine," I waved it away, returning the hug. "I just need time."

"Maybe spending some time at the building will help you out," he suggested, with a hopeful tone. I wanted that, too. It would help. I just wasn't quite sure how much. I moved back enough to see him, but not so far I'd be out of his arms, with a smile. "Being with you helps, too," I pointed out.

"Well, then you're going to feel really great because of our date tonight."

"Why? Do you have something planned I don't know about?"

"You'll have to wait and see," he chuckled a little, teasing. I rose up the small space between us and my lips melded with his. Not a mere second later, Dani emerged from the stairs, saying, "Come on, Alison!" I pulled away from Foggy to see her and she jutted her arms out at her sides in exasperation. I sighed and turned back to Foggy. "Go," he said, gesturing with a hand toward the hallway, stepping back with a depressed tone.

"I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"See you tonight. Stay safe."

"Will do." I smiled and hurried to follow Dani outside. She was practically speed walking the whole way out. We took my car, seeing as Dani walked and I drove. Dani was mostly quiet in the passenger seat. But halfway to my apartment she said, "You and Foggy seem to be getting close."

I nodded once, glancing at her a second. "Yeah...we are." I didn't really know what else to say. I've never been the type to delve out info on my own relationships, but I'm great at prying into someone else's personal life. It would seem like Dani was the same way. "Have you told Chase yet?" she asked.

"Not explicitly," I said. "I mean, I didn't purposely go out of my way to tell him. But I think he knows."

"That kid knows everything," she mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing." A soft buzzing sound caught my attention, and I eyed Dani suspiciously. She shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out a black flip-phone. "Oh, it's him," she said.

" _Him_?" I raised an eyebrow.

" _Him_. As in the Mask, the guy we're going to meet," she replied, seeming nervous now. The phone continued to vibrate violently in her hands as she glanced from it to me, and I sighed. "Are you going to answer it?" I asked, sporadically glancing at her from the road.

"I don't know. I can't answer it."

"Why not?"

"Because he can't know I'm Dani. I'm not ready for that," Dani explained, frantically. Dani silenced the phone and slid it back into her pocket. I hope that was the right decision. If it wasn't, Dani's secret identity will be revealed. It could look too coincidental that she didn't answer the phone after Dani and I leave the office. Or maybe Angel is just busy? "I'll text him later," Dani waved it away.

My eyebrows knitted together. What? Great, now I'm going to have to read whatever she's going to send in that text message out loud. We arrived at my apartment door not long before we were supposed to meet the Mask there. I briefly wondered how Matt was going to excuse himself from the law firm in order to get here as his alter ego, walking inside.

Speak of the devil. Matt, dressed in full vigilante get-up, stood near the living room window, behind the dining room table. How did he get here so fast? Did he fly? "Remind me to make sure to lock the windows next time," I commented, closing the door behind Dani. Dani and I stood a few feet from him.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, all business.

I sighed. "Ask _her_ ," I said, throwing a hand in Dani's direction. Dani gave me an odd look, then turned back to the Mask. "I wanted to update Alison on my findings about her ex, but I thought you should hear it too since Fisk is involved," Dani explained.

"What did you find?" the Mask asked. Dani reached a hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out her iPhone. "Don't ask me how, but a couple of nights ago I met with Steve Dawson, or his real name James Wesley. I recorded the conversation and think it'd be best if you heard it straight from the horse's mouth," Dani finished. She pressed a couple buttons on her phone, then held it out in front of her.

The Mask and I listened intently to the conversation between James and Dani. He sounded just as much as a jerk as he used to. Except for the part where he claimed to be a good guy. That he was trying to protect Chase and me. What kind of an idiot does he mistake us all for? There is no way he tried to kill me because he was really the good guy.

The recording ended, and Dani slid her phone away. "I decided to go along with what he's saying, but that doesn't mean I trust him. Since then we've talked a couple of times and each time, he's seeming more convincing that all he wants is to protect the Fletchers from Fisk," she said.

I crossed my arms. "Are you kidding me? This is ridiculous!"

"Alison-"

"He's lying. There is no way on this green earth that that man is really trying to help me," I persisted, boiling.

"What has he said about Fisk?" the Mask asked Dani, ignoring me.

"Not much. But that what you and Angel are doing is finally starting to put a wrench in his operation. I already told Angel this the other day, which is why I only asked to speak to you. I wanted you to hear the recording for yourself. But if this guy's lying, he's doing a pretty good job at it. Like he'd win an Oscar faster than Leonardo DiCaprio did," Dani replied. I felt like a total third wheel again, practically steaming.

Nothing right now about this makes any sense to me. How am I supposed to even think of letting the notion into my mind that he has the slightest chances of being good? "But if I can make him think I'm on his side," Dani continued, "I might be able to get him to tell me something we can use against Fisk."

"Okay, just be careful. He still could be playing us," the Mask said.

"You can't seriously support this," I gaped.

"I don't. But right now, he's the only intel we've got on what Fisk is doing," the Mask corrected. I shook my head in disapproval and turned away, highly annoyed. He sighed. "What do you want me to do, Alison? Turn a blind eye and not take advantage of this opportunity? We need him."

"That's ironic, coming from you," I quipped.

"Alison," he warned.

"What? You think I'm going to be perfectly okay with this and not say a word?" I turned back toward him, thrusting my arms out at my sides with a raised tone. "Have you forgotten already what he did to me? Do you want me to remind you?"

"But that's just it- this isn't about _you_. It was never about you. It's about saving innocent lives!" he argued, raising his voice to match mine. My face recoiled and I took a step back, a pang of hurt hitting my chest. What part of Matt's face was visible instantly looked regretful, but I was too bitter to care. "Alison, I didn't-"

"Get out," I interrupted, hardening my expression. I clenched my jaw tightly to keep the stone from cracking, crossing my arms. It was quiet a moment. Matt's shoulders dropped. Anger rose up in me, mixed with the stinging from his words, and I mustered up all of it I could into my voice. "GET. OUT." He turned and climbed out the window, disappearing.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I stood outside the law firm, my phone pressed to my ear. I had just picked up Chase from school, when Wesley called. Since I told him to keep me in the loop, I couldn't purposely not take his call. I sent Chase up the stairs to join the others, while I tried to see what Wesley wanted this time. But, thankfully, I don't have Elizabeth today so I don't have to worry about her. "So, when will this happen?"

"I don't know," he said. "All I know is that Fisk is planning to draw the Mask out so Nobu can end him. I'll let you know on the when and how."

"Okay. Thank you, that's good to know." The line went dead. I'm assuming he had to quickly end the call. I slid my phone into my pocket and then headed into the building. Five minutes later, I was in the law firm. Foggy, Matt, and Karen were talking with an elderly Hispanic looking woman. I'm sure it's business so I stayed out of it. Chase was sitting on a chair in the corner a few feet away. I closed the door behind me and then walked up to him. He looked board out of his mind, but he was obeying. That's a step in the right direction. "Good job," I whispered.

He smiled, nodding. The old woman was explaining to them some new developments in her case. From what I could hear, sounds like Fisk is trying to kick her out of her building, along with everyone in it. The same thing happened with Mary. But, unfortunately, I don't have any papers to prove it. I tried to find something, grasping at all the straws possible, but there was nothing. The whole thing was swept under the rug. "Dani!" I turn and look at Foggy. "This is Elena. We're helping her with a tenement case with Fisk."

I walked up to the group and shook her hand. "This is Dani Dylan," Foggy introduced me. "She's a PI who's been helping try to take down Fisk." The woman nodded, seeming to understand most of what Foggy was saying. She looked at me, pointing to Chase, "Is that you're boy?"

"No, no es mío. Pertenece a un amigo. Sólo soy niñera." I replied, as Foggy let out a long sigh.

"Of course, you speak Spanish," he said. "Am I the only one who doesn't?" We all laughed at Foggy. Elena said her goodbyes to the others and then left. From what I heard, Foggy and Karen told her to not take the new offer. To keep fighting. And while, in a perfect world, I might have told her the same thing, but not when a man like Fisk is involved. "You shouldn't have done that," Matt didn't look too happy.

"What? Fight for the rights of the little guy, right?" Foggy asked.

"Fisk won't stop until he gets those tenements," I said.

"So, what? We're just supposed to roll over?" Karen asked. Shocker. What is her deal? She wants to go balls to the wall, or not at all.

"Fisk is public on this," Foggy said. "If we tie him up with an injunction, maybe we find something in the deposition that we-"

"Oh, come on, Foggy, you think we're going to trip this guy up with a deposition?" Matt asked. "After everything that's happened, you don't get who we're dealing with?"

"No, we get it!" Karen said. "He's just a rich guy who thinks he can pay everyone off. Look, he's standing on City Hall with his cronies like he's already won." She today's paper and practically shoved it in Matt's face. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, sighing. "You know he can't see that," Foggy said.

"All right, we can't let him get away with this," she continued, tossing the paper onto the desk.

"And we're not," I said. "We need to keep digging, find something that will lead to the truth. The more we find out about this guy, the better. Look into all the articles about him, even if we know they're not true." I sighed and looked around. Karen seemed satisfied with that plan, and no one tried to argue with it. "The best lies are always mostly true."

"Is that from personal experience or work?" Foggy asked me.

"A little of both."

"Okay, good," Karen nodded, suddenly really excited.

"But do it quietly," Matt said. "Stay under the radar." Matt headed for the door. Foggy sighed and followed him, "Where are you going?"

"Three people stood with Fisk when he addressed the city. His man from Confed Global," he glanced at me, "Alison's ex, Owlsley, and a woman. One the press said he seemed close with."

"Oh, yeah, uh, Vanessa, um…" Karen went to the desk and picked up the news paper, searching for the name. "Marianna. She works a Scene Contempo Gallery."

"Maybe it's time I invested in some art," Matt said.

"Take Dani with you," Foggy said, glancing my way. "You shouldn't go into the belly of the beast alone. Safety in numbers, and all." He only wants me to go with him because he knows I'm Angel. If something goes wrong or gets out of hand Foggy wants me there to protect Matt. I understand his logic, but it'd be nice if he'd ask. Foggy's famous for putting me in a position where I can't say no. And, as usual, that came out sounding weirder than it should have.

"Sure," Matt shrugged. "If she's up for it." He looked at me.

"Yeah," I said, grabbing my coat. I told Chase to behave and then left with Matt. At least this time, Alison won't want to kill me too much for leaving Chase. After all, she does know my secret now and I left Chase with Foggy and Karen. So, I think she'll be fine with it. It didn't take us too long to get there, traffic wasn't too bad. We stood outside the building as I turned to Matt, "What's your plan?"

"Try to find out what I can on Fisk while posing as a customer," he replied.

"What do you want me to do? Like, am I the friend, the girlfriend?"

He smiled a slight chuckle. "Well…you're the Private Investigator. Which do you think is more believable?" I could tell he was flirting with me again. I tucked my hair behind my ear so it'd stop smacking me in the face. "Probably girlfriend," I said.

"Okay, then," he held out his arm for me to take. "Ready?" I wrapped my arm around his and then began walking toward the door. We walked in through the first door, which lead to a small hall way. We continued to the next door, which actually lead to the art gallery part. I pulled it open and let Matt go first. I was a little distracted, taking in my surroundings. I couldn't help but feel a little nervous about this.

"This place is so clean you could eat off the floor," I only spoke loud enough for Matt to hear me, using it as an excuse to get a better look at the guards posted at each entrance. He nodded so I know he heard me, but too seems distracted. The guard in the far back buttoned his suit jacket, flashing his shoulder strap and then butt of his gun at me. Maybe it is a good thing I came. "May I help you?" a woman's voice came from our left. I quickly recognized her as the woman who was standing next to Fisk.

"I hope so," Matt said to her. "Um, Matthew." He held out his hand and she took it. She glanced up at me, then back at him.

"Vanessa," she said.

"Vanessa, you're probably wondering what a man who can't see is doing in an art gallery."

"I didn't want to be forward," she said. So far, she seems nice. Definitely not who I'd picture as the love of an evil master mind. But I have seen stranger things. "I'm told my apartment's a bit stark," Matt said. "We were thinking some art would warm it up." Vanessa looked at me and smiled.

"You must be the girlfriend," she shook my hand.

"Dani," I nodded. She leaned in a little close.

"Well, if he's listening to you this early in your relationship, then I'd say you're off to a good start," she said with a slight laugh. I smiled, playing along. "So, what are you two after?" she led the way deeper into the gallery. Some of the art hanging looked like the result of a child's tantrum, while others actually looked interesting. But this is the kind of art only very rich men can buy. Even back when I had my 'millions', I still wouldn't be able to afford this. She must've met Fisk through her gallery.

"Don't know," I said. "This is a first for both of us."

"Good…art isn't furniture," she said. "But, you do want something that will still have meaning after she's gone." She turned and walked away. I scoffed in disbelief. Did she really just say that? Matt patted my hand on his arm in a reassuring way, then whispered, "Let it go." We quickly caught up with her at the end of one of the halls.

"This one, for example. One of my favorite pieces," she pointed at the lone painting on the wall. To me, it didn't look like much. Like someone melted down a brick wall and then tried to put it back together. But Vanessa had another take. "Imagine a sea of tonal reds. The color of anger…of rage…but also the color of the heart…of love…hope. This strikes the perfect balance between the two." I think I'm going to change my stance on that evil master mind part.

"I don't know. It sounds aggressive," Matt said.

"All depends on your point of view," she replied. Indeed it does. I tried so hard to keep my mind shut. Reminding myself why I'm here and who it is we're talking too. She's clearly smitten with Matt, though that might just be to get him to by something.

"We almost need another man's opinion," I sighed in indecision. "Do you have one in your life?"

"Yes, I do."

"And what's he like? Much of an art guy?"

She grinned looking past me. "You can always ask him yourself." She walked in the direction of her gaze. My heart instantly started racing. Fisk is here? I watched here walk away and sure enough…Fisk was walking through the front door.

"Well…that just happened," I said turning to Matt. "Yeah, Fisk is here." He nodded, a scowl on his face. We both have a lot of contempt for this man, but not showing it is the key. We turned around just as Vanessa and Fisk approached us. "Wilson Fisk," she said, introducing us, "Matthew…"

"Murdock," Matt said. Then he shook hands with Fisk.

"Oh, yes. The attorney," Fisk said. "I've heard about all your work in Hell's Kitchen."

"I'm aware of yours as well."

Fisk turned to me, his hand out to shake. I slipped mine in his, ignoring the urge to kick him in a few unkind places. "Danielle Dylan. I'm a Private Investigator out of Hell's Kitchen."

"I'm well aware. You're the reason I'm always hiring new men."

"Well, it's not my fault they can't keep their pants on," I smiled. "And, even if they work for you, child molestation is still a crime. So is human trafficking, for that matter." His face dropped, eyeing me suspiciously. I'm sure he doesn't get that a lot. Matt cleared his throat next to me, and I know that was a sign to back off.

"They were just looking for some advice from another man," Vanessa told Fisk, trying to change the subject.

"Well, that's simple," Fisk looked at us. "Buy whatever you're lady tells you."

"Thank you," Matt said. "Although we probably shouldn't be talking. I believe we're on opposite sides of a tenancy case."

"Oh, you are?" she asked Fisk.

"Yes," he nodded. "The rental properties I recently acquired from Mr. Tully. But I'm sure that will be settled to everyone's benefit. This city has suffered long enough under the burden of poverty and decay. I believe we have opportunities now to-"

"Wilson, Mr. Murdock and Miss Dylan are customers, not donors," Vanessa told him.

"Yes, I apologize for the hard sell. This city and its future…seeing Hell's Kitchen to its fullest potential is very important to me."

"I feel the same way," Matt said. I glanced down at my watch, then up at Matt.

"Honey, we better go," I said. "I'm going to be late for meeting a client." Matt nodded my way, then turned to Vanessa.

"Vanessa, thank you so much for your time," he said. We both nodded our thanks and then left. We both parted ways after that, neither one really saying much. It took awhile to get my heart rate down. Being in front of Fisk like that, without my costume, really freaked me out more than I thought. I went back to my place. Mary was folding laundry on the coffee table. "You're home early," she said. I walked past her and to the desk. I plopped down in it and sighed.

"Yeah. It was a, uh…tough day," was all I said. She nodded, knowing something on the hero side probably happened. The next day, Mary left me in charge of Elizabeth. I think I needed that. She gives me an excuse to take my mind off of a probable. I arrived at the law firm, not sure what I was even needed for. I picked up Elizabeth and held her against my chest. About a half hour later, Matt arrived.

"Hey," Karen said. "Uh, Foggy, um, tried to get a hold of you last night."

"Oh, yeah, I turned my phone off," he walked up to the front desk.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just…tired," he said. And he looked it. I walked closer, slightly bobbing Elizabeth. "Oh," Karen said. "How'd it go with that Vanessa woman?" I glanced at Matt, who glanced at me.

"Oh, I didn't get what I needed," Matt said, conveniently leaving out the part about us talking to Fisk.

"Well, uh, Foggy and I had better luck," she got a little peppier. "We identified the guys who jumped us outside of Elena's. It's a Stewart Schmidt and Joseph Pike."

"You ID'd them from booking photos?" I asked.

"No, actually-"

"Contractor's licenses," Foggy said walking out of his office. "And where were you?" That question was clearly directed at Matt.

"Walking, clearing my head," he said.

"Hate when you don't answer my calls, buddy," Foggy called from the kitchen area. "I always think you fell down an open manhole or something."

"I'm fine," Matt brushed it off. I looked at Karen, "Who's the employer of record?"

"Westmeyer-Holt Contracting, another wonderful Global Confed subsidiary," she said.

"Well, that's it. That's great," Matt said. "We press assault charges, get them to flip on Fisk."

"Yeah, not so much," Foggy said.

"I reached out to Ben," Karen said, "and his sources say that they're off the map."

"Just like Hoffman and Tully," I sighed.

"Of course they are," Matt said. "So, we have nothing."

"I wouldn't go that far. Here, Foggy, show him the thing," Karen smiled. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled something out. It was wrapped in brown paper. She quickly handed it to Foggy. He instantly lit up, "Right, the thing!" He took it from her and began up wrapping it.

"What thing?" Matt asked.

"The dream, buddy," Foggy grinned. He handed Matt the sign that he'd told me about a few days ago. Matt ran his hand across the front of it. "It's just like the one I drew on the napkin that you, uh, couldn't see back when."

"It's a little small, isn't it?" Matt smiled.

"Building regulations."

"Anyway, so are we. We are small but awesome," Karen said.

"And we're gonna make a difference. I know it doesn't feel like it sometimes…a lot of the time, but we are, with the power of the law."

"Okay," Matt nodded.

"Dragged me into this rinky-dink firm, Murdock…and I'll never be able to thank you enough for it," Foggy said, shaking Matt's shoulder.

"You're not gonna kiss me."

"I'm feeling a little somethin'."

"Okay, come here," Matt said as he and Foggy hugged.

"Now you're official," I said. "Since you've got a sign, now all you need is clients. Which is currently my problem." They laughed as Karen answered the phone. She stopped the excitement in its tracks. I could tell by her tone and sudden drop in expression, that whatever was on the other end, wasn't good news.


	18. Aftermath

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I just got home from the building when I got the call. Someone had died. A woman named Elena Cardenas—who was apparently one of Nelson and Murdock's clients, and also a friend—was murdered this evening. Foggy called because, he said, everyone was meeting at Josie's for a drink and he needed some support. I guessed that the 'everyone' would mean Matt as well. But if Foggy needed me, I would be there. So I drove straight to the bar. It was fairly empty when I walked in.

Matt, Karen, Foggy, and Dani all sat at a round table against the right wall. Josie had just given them another bottle of whiskey. I made my way through the dank smelling space and Karen noticed me. She gave a half attempt at a smile, sitting across the table from the entrance. "Hey...glad you could make it," she said, sounding less than enthused. And I can understand why.

Foggy turned around in his chair as I stepped up beside the table. I tried to ignore Matt to my left and only focus really on Foggy. "Hey. I'm so sorry about Elena," I told him, genuinely. He stood and wrapped his arms around me, looking to be on the verge of a breakdown. I hugged him back tightly. I felt a bit of sympathy grief bubbling up in my stomach. He stepped back and pulled over another chair beside his. He dropped into his seat and started opening the bottle of whiskey.

I glanced around the table of solemn faces as I sat. Dani twisted to look over at the bar as she said, "Hey, Josie. Another glass?" Not a moment passed before Josie came to the table and dropped a glass down in front of me. "Thanks," I half-smiled at the woman.

"Sure thing, hon," she said, before disappearing back behind the bar. Foggy poured whiskey into all the glasses in turn as he spoke. "When we first took the case, Karen and I went to Landman and Zack," he said. I recognized the name. It was a higher up law firm here in the city. "Marci talked about a 'criminal element' in Elena's building. Said that's why the workman left without finishing the repairs."

"'Cause they feared for their safety'," Karen mocked quietly, before taking a drink of whiskey.

Foggy shook his head slowly. "I thought it was lies." He took a drink and my hand found his under the table. I glanced over at Dani. She seemed to also just be here for support, but she was mostly interested in her whiskey, downing it faster than any of us at the table. Maybe I'd missed something? "Maybe it was," Matt said, quietly.

"Tell that to Elena," Foggy said.

"What do you mean?" Dani asked, turning a little toward Matt.

Matt inhaled. "Well, I don't know," he waved it away a bit. "Just doesn't feel right, does it?"

"I'll drink to that," Foggy downed the rest of his whiskey and poured another.

"You think it was just a coincidence?" Matt asked, rhetorically. All eyes were on him then. You could almost hear a pin drop as the whole table stared. "Elena decided to stay and fight, to rally what's left of her neighbors, and this happens."

"You think _Fisk_ had something to do with it?" I asked, my eye brows raised. Foggy gulped down whatever liquor he had in his mouth and shoved a finger in the direction of the tv above the bar. "Speak of the devil," he said. Dani twisted to look, but soon sighed and turned back to her drink, dissatisfied. "Fisk is on the tv...again," she grumbled, in annoyance.

"Hey, Josie, could you turn that up?" Matt requested. I turned in my chair a bit to see. Josie turned up the volume enough to hear over here at the table. Sure enough, Fisk's ugly bald head was covering the screen. " _No, I never had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Cardenas_ ," Fisk said. " _I only recently took possession of her building_."

" _How do you respond to reports that you knew the tenement was unsafe_?" a reporter asked, off screen.

" _That is accurate. What why we offered a substantial sum to Ms. Cardenas and her neighbors to help them relocate_ ," Fisk explained. " _We should never let good people get swallowed up by this city. I mourn this woman's death. Didn't have to happen, it should've...her passing is a symptom of a larger disease-_ "

And that's where he lost me. If the disease is really himself, then what does that make the rest of us? I sighed heavily and picked up my glass, downing a swig of whiskey. It burned it's way down my throat as I put the glass back on the table. Just then, Foggy's cell phone started ringing. He glanced at it. "It's the funeral home," he said, depressed. He stood from his chair and answered the call, dropping my hand as he walked past the table.

" _We shouldn't let people like that take our city from us_ ," Fisk's voce filtered back in ad nauseam. " _We need to stand together, let them know that they will fail, because we believe we can make a difference. 'Cause they are cowards! Afraid of stepping out of the shadows. Afraid of standing up for people like Mrs. Cardenas. I'm sorry...I'm sorry."_

He stormed off camera, away from the press, and I got a good look at Steve. For the love of- I have got to settle on one name. Karen turned back to the table, more emotional now. "He almost sounds like he means it," she said, drinking from her glass.

Dani sat upright. "Because he's keeping up the act—pretending like he cares."

"I think he does," Matt contradicted. Not this again.

"And he's calling the Man in the Mask a psycho? I hope they trace what happened to Elena right to his doorstep," Karen said, forcefully.

"He'd never expose himself like that," Matt disagreed. "Plus, half the force is probably in his pocket."

"Well, then, let's pray the Mask gets his hands on him," Karen said, darkly, hovering over her glass. "Knocks that fat, bald head right from his shoulders." Dani poured herself another glass of whiskey and then held it up, looking at Karen. "Here here," she said, before downing it. The glass slammed back on the table. I took a sip from mine. "Maybe he needs an Angel," I said, glancing up at Dani.

She looked back at me and nodded once, seriously. "That'd be nice," she agreed. Karen reached for the bottle but sighed in annoyance when it was found empty. She stood, saying, "I'm going to get another bottle," before shuffling toward the bar. There was a short pause of silence, which was nice, and I took another drink. "Are you religious, Alison?" Matt asked, suddenly.

I put my glass back on the table and inhaled, trying not to sound too bitter. "Grew up Christian. But I haven't stepped foot in a church since I was fifteen so, no, not particularly. I suppose _you_ are?"

"Catholic," he nodded once.

"Well, la di da." I took another drink, emptying my glass.

"The North winds must have blown in early. I think I just caught a chill," Dani commented, deadpanned sarcastic. A small, somewhat uncomfortable silence settled in between the three of us and Dani glanced between Matt and me. I raised an eyebrow. "What is up with you two lately?" she asked. "This has been going on for a couple days now, and it's really old."

"What do you _think_ was going to happen, Dani?" I asked, helpless annoyance slipping into my tone.

"I _thought_ you two could pull your heads out of your butts without assistance. I guess I was wrong," She stood up from her chair and pulled her jacket on, zipping it up. "I'm heading home. See you guys whenever." She turned and started for the exit. Just then, Karen dropped into her chair, slamming a fresh bottle of whiskey on the table. "Hey, where's Dani going?" she asked.

"Home," I answered, simply.

"I think I've had enough," Matt inhaled. "Tell Foggy I'll see him tomorrow." He stood and made his way out as well, leaving just Karen and I at the table. I turned to her. "Are you going to be the first one to use that, or should I?" I asked, referring to the bottle. She popped open the lid and chastely poured herself some, then slid it across the table to me.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I climbed the stairs up to my floor, pulling out my phone just long enough to check the time. I just barely caught a glimpse of the digits before the screen changed, alerting me that Wesley was calling. This can't be good. I sighed, stopping in the stairwell on the fourth floor. I put the phone to my ear. "Yeah." I slightly stumbled on the word. I had way too much to drink.

"Nobu's planning on taking out your masked friends. Tonight," he said. I was instantly alert, standing up straighter. "And before you ask, that's all I know. Nobu's not the kind to share his plans. But I told you I'd tell you when I had something."

"Yes. Thank you, Wesley. At least I can tell them to be extra aware. Knowing Nobu's after them could possibly save their lives."

"Well, I didn't do it for them." The line went dead. He did it for Alison. All of this, he's done for her. And she'll never believe me if told her. I slid the phone back into my pocket and then trotted up the remaining stairs. I made it to the fifth floor and then rounded the corner. I stopped dead in my tracks. A man sat on the floor outside my door. A duffle bag sat next to him. But I knew who it was before he looked up at me. "Hey, sis," he said. He stood and walked up to me, abandoning the bag.

Tears filled my eyes as he wrapped his arms around me. I returned the hug, squeezing him hard. "Benjamin...what…?" I couldn't form the words. My mind went completely blank. He pulled back but still held onto me. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

"You were gone for two years." The realization just hit me. He left without a word. Just vanished one day. He'd had a history of doing that in the past so I never bothered looking for him. But this one was the longest. Tears came more forcefully, refusing to run down my face. I could tell Ben saw them by the sudden drop in his expression. "Where were you?" I nearly choked on the words.

"Hey," he spoke softly, pulling me into him again as my tears fell. Everything that had happened since he left rushed down on top of me. It caught me off guard and I couldn't take it any longer. "I'm sorry," he spoke into my shoulder. "I won't leave again."

"You better not." I pulled away, whipping my tears with my sleeves. "How long have you been waiting?"

"A couple hours." He shrugged and picked up his bag. I pulled my keys out and then unlocked the door. "Mary's in the guest room," I said. "She's probably asleep. But the couch is yours." I swung the door open and we walked inside. Ben closed the door behind us. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I remembered about what Wesley had told me. I pulled the phone out and then looked at Ben. "I need to take this. Make yourself at home." I quickly left the room and went to my bedroom. I closed the door, answering the phone. "Hey."

All I heard was silence from the other end. "Hello?" I listened intently, waiting for a reply. Just when I was about to hang up, I heard, "Angel." His voice was low, almost a plea. I sighed slightly, relieved he answered. But at the same time, his voice unnerved me. "Have you seen the news?" He's referring to Elena. Her death has the whole city rattled. I nodded once to myself.

"Where do you want to meet?" I asked. Another long pause of pure silence followed. "Um-" I cleared my throat, "Dani Dylan called me today, a while ago. Wesley called her and said that Nobu's going to try and kill us tonight." I stopped talking, waiting for a reaction. The other end stayed quiet. "Are you okay? I know that Fisk killed a woman and is getting away with it, but…are you mad I didn't answer your call earlier? Because-"

"No, it's not you," he said. I heard him sigh. "It's Fisk. I want him to pay for everything he's done and get everything he deserves."

"Yeah, so do I. But you're starting to sound like…" I thought for a second. "Wait. You're not going to kill him, are you?" Did Fisk finally do it? Did he really push the Mask so far over the edge he's willing to do _anything_ to stop Fisk? I heard another sigh but this one was different. Like someone's already asked him this question. "Look, okay, you can't kill him."

"Why not? Look at everything that he's done and trying to do."

"Yes, but-" I sighed in frustration. I feel like I'm talking a man off a ledge. "I want him dead, too. And frankly, if it weren't for you, I would've done it a long time ago. But, _you_ can't do it, Mask. If there's _anything_ I've learned from you, it's that you can't cross that line. Okay? That someone like you, with your morals, can't. If you did, you'd be killing yourself. You're not built like me. You can't kill someone and then forget about it…you would spend forever regretting it until it ate away at everything that you are." I let me words sink in, with him and myself. "When fighting darkness like Fisk…you can't let it pull you down to it's level. If you do, then either way, he's won and you've lost everything."

I hear a knock on my door. I muted my end, so he couldn't hear what I was doing, and then walked to the door. I pulled it open and found Ben. "Hey," he said. "A buddy of mine needs some help, so I'm going to be gone for a while." I smiled, still listening for the Mask's response. "Okay," I nodded. "Do you want company?"

"No. No, you go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow." He waved and walked away. "Bye," I called before closing the door. I unmated the phone, just as he was rambling off an address. "Okay. Just hang tight until I get there." I waited again for a response. "Mask?"

"Thank you, Angel."

"You're welcome." His end went dead. I tossed the phone on the bed and then quickly changed into my costume. I left a note for Mary telling her about Ben and that I was going to help the Mask again. I slipped it under her door so that if Ben's back before I am, he won't find it. I wish she were awake. Then I could tell her about everything, talk to her about the Mask. I sighed and then slid my bow in it's holster. I slipped on my glasses as I opened the living room window. I stepped out onto the fire escape, closing the window. Then I high tailed it across town.

I got to the roof top where he wanted to meet in record time, as always. One small problem. I spun around, looking at every spot on the roof. "Dang it!" I walked to the edge of the roof, putting my hands on the wall and leaning into it. He's not here. I know this is the right place. I repeated his words in my head. This is it! And he's not here. He didn't listen. He didn't wait for me. I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. I rang and rang. No answer. Now, I was furious. I squeezed the phone in my hand, resisting the urge to throw it.

Okay, breathe. I put the phone back in my pocket. He wants Fisk dead. But you have to find him first. That buys me some time. The best way to find Fisk would be to find the guy who killed Elena. I pushed off the wall and broke into a run across the roof top. I ran to the other side and then jumped to the adjacent roof top. I worked my way to Elena's building, the one Fisk now owns. The place was being renovated now. I sat across the street and watched. Would the Mask have come here?

Probably not. He's got too much pent up anger. Coming here would be easy. He'd rather punch his way to Fisk. I shimmied down the fire escape, keeping to the shadows. I turned down the alley and saw a homeless man sitting a few yards away. I continued walking, planning on going right past him. Until I saw what was in his hands. A packet of the drugs the Russians were selling for Fisk. I sighed as I approached him. The man recognized me, gasping as I walked up to him. "I know you know who I am," I said. "I'm having an off day here, maybe you can help me."

The man nodded. "Have you seen the man in the mask in the last twenty or so minutes," I asked. He shook his head. Figures. "Okay, then. Where'd you get the drugs? It's going to be your first and last chance." The man suddenly got nervous. He swallowed hard. He gave me the name of the man he got them from and where to find him. I thanked him and then was on my way. He said the guy lived across town in a school bus. I've heard of weirder. It took about ten minutes to get there.

The bus sat just beside a bridge. And it just so happens, the one I was walking on. I went to the edge and throw myself off, landing on the bus below. From the sounds of it, the Mask was here. And getting information. I pulled out my bow, unfolding it. I placed an arrow on the string and the Mask walked out of the bus. I saw him and then quickly launched my arrow in his direction. He reacted as expected, flipping out of harm's way. He landed and glared up at me. "So you _are_ still thinking straight," I said. "That's good. I was starting to wonder since you _blew me off_."

I folded down my bow and slid it away. "Don't even bother trying to come up with an excuse." I kicked off the top of the bus, flipping twice, and then landing. "You're angry, I get it. You want Fisk dead, I completely understand. But you called me, remember? I doubt you were ever at the address you gave me." He opened his mouth to speak, so I quickly cut him off. "I know there's always a risk we could die, but tonight Nobu's got it out for us and you decide to go solo? This, right here, is part of what I was saying on the phone. You need to save this city by being better than Fisk. And not neglect your partner. We need to stick together." I huffed, frustrated.

"I'm sorry," he said. I sighed and looked up at him. "You're right. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"And don't leave me again. I was starting to think you'd be dead by the time I found you," I said sincerely. The Mask wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I wrapped my arms around him, finally feeling like I'd found him. I closed my eyes, not wanting to let go. But after a few minutes, we had to. Fisk isn't going to stop himself. "What did you get out of that guy?" I nodded toward the bus. The Mask held up one of those drug packets.

"A lead," he said.

"Then, let's get this over with." He nodded and then turned to leave. I quickly followed suit. We traveled about two miles before we reached our destination. Some trashed apartment complex. I followed the Mask inside and up the stairs to the right room. He kicked the door in as I pulled out my bow. Who knows what we'll find. He walked into the apartment and went left while I went right. This place was a dump. But no one was in my half. I hear a loud thud and a man screaming. I guess the Mask was able to find someone.

I quickly made my way to the direction of the noise. I walked into a room and found the Mask throwing some guy across the room. He landed in a pile of glass bottles. I cringed as he screamed. "Please, stop! I'm…I'm sick," the man screamed. I sighed as the Mask stormed over to him. He punched him before latching onto his throat. "Okay, the purse. I'll tell you who snatched it-"

The Mask punched him again, roughing him up some more. I walked closer, ready to step in if things got too far. You can't get information out of a dead man. The Mask held him by the scruff of his shirt and leaned in close. "Listen, I've hurt a lot of people tonight to get what I need to know." He was out of breath, but unwilling to let up.

"The person who killed Ms. Cardenas," I said, "lives here." The guy glanced up at me. "I suggest you start talking." I crossed my arms.

"Who payed you?" The Mask asked.

"I don't-"

"Was it Fisk?" The man kept saying 'I don't know'. The Mask became more enraged. He punched the guy again. "Was it Fisk? Was it Wilson Fisk?!" He pulled back to hit the guy again. I jumped in, putting my hand on his clenched fist. He looked at me as the guy started screaming for his life. "Please, stop!" the guy yelled. I let go of the Mask and then stepped back. He didn't miss a beat, getting right back to his interrogation, "Give me a reason too!"

"I don't know their names," the guy said. "I don't! They found me. They took me to a warehouse on the water…Pier 81. I didn't want to do it man. I swear. I didn't want to do it!" The Mask let go of him and stood up right. "I was hurting. I was hurting, man!"

"Oh, shut up!" I yelled at him. I'd heard enough. What kind of person trades someone's life for drugs? We stood there for a second, silence between us. "You're gonna turn yourself in," the Mask said, pointing at the man. "To Sergeant Brett Mahoney at the 15th Precinct. If you don't, I'll find you. And next time, I'm not going to stop." He punched him one last time, then walked out of the room. I'd feel sorry for the guy, but in totally different circumstances. I turned and followed the Mask.

He was quiet all the way to the pier. We got within a hundred yards of the building, when I stopped. He walked a few more steps before he'd realized I'd stopped. He looked back at me and tiled his head. "This is probably a trap. That was too easy, Fisk was sloppy."

"I know," he said.

"But you're going to drag me in there, anyway."

"You don't have to come."

"You're an idiot if you think I'm letting you do this alone." I sighed, crossed my arms. "There are two things in this world I want right now. That's stopping Fisk, and you. After everything we've been through, I don't want your clouded judgment to be what ends this. For you." He walked closer to me and I know what he wanted. To hold me, to kiss me, to touch me in some way. But I took a step back. He stopped.

"I want you, too. More than anything," he said. I looked up at him and into the black cloth covering his face. "And I don't want any of us to die tonight. You're right, this might be a trap, but so could have a lot of the things we've faced. My judgment's not clouded. I just want Fisk, like always." I nodded, processing what he said.

"Okay." I uncrossed my arms and walked the remaining steps between us. "Just do me one thing." He tilted his head again. "Kiss me, slowly." And he did. He cupped my face and drew out the kiss as long as he could. I could feel him physically relax. I sighed with pure please, as he stood there with his hands still on my face. "Like that?" he asked.

"Like that," I agreed. I opened my eyes and looked at him. "Ready?" He nodded, then led the way. I unfolded my bow as we got closer to the warehouse. "Anyone home?"

"Not that I can tell," he replied. We walked to the front of the building and walked inside. The place looked deserted. "Still nothing?" I asked. He nodded and moved toward the stairs. I followed him up to the next floor. A door sat at the end of a long hallway. We went to it, the Mask pushing the door open. The room was large and nearly empty. I scanned the room but couldn't see anyone. Unlike the Mask, the darkness is my disadvantage. To the left of the door sat a table with a bunch of papers on it.

I went to the table, letting my bow rest at my side. "Maps of New York and Hell's Kitchen," I said. "Some kind of plans for renovation." I looked up at the Mask. He turned his head to the side, listening to something other than me. "What?" He turned around looking toward a door way on the other side of the room. Something's here. I stepped around the table, drawing an arrow from my quiver. I slid it into place as he walked a little closer to the door way. I followed him out into the middle of the room, where he stopped.

"I didn't come here for you," the Mask said. Okay, so not Fisk. But, I'm guessing I know who it is.

"But I am the one you have found." I recognized the voice from the docks, when Stick enlisted our help killing that boy. He dropped down from somewhere above, just passed the doorway. He took a few steps closer, dressed in complete red ninja attire. I sighed. Great. Somehow, I don't see this ending well. "Nobu," I said.


	19. The Angel of Hell's Kitchen

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"But I am the one you have found." I recognized the voice from the docks, when Stick enlisted our help killing that boy. He dropped down from somewhere above, just passed the doorway. He took a few steps closer, dressed in complete red ninja attire. I sighed. Great. Somehow, I don't see this ending well. "Nobu," I said.

"The Angel and the Devil," he said. "You two were at the docks…with the old fool." That I agree on. Stick is very much an old fool. "That was unexpected."

"We're not part of his war," the Mask said.

"Yet you aided him. And in the act, caused me displeasure."

"Glad we could help," I said. "I take it those plans are yours." He walked a little closer, now starting to circle us. "Looks like you wanted a certain tenement building. You strike a deal with Fisk? Kill us and it's yours?"

"Apparently you are not just here for your looks. But you did not know I was here."

"No," the Mask said. "You slowed your heart rate, lowered your body temperature."

"The old fool has taught you in our ways," Nobu said, mad at the thought.

"I told you I'm not with him."

"Yet you're still a warrior…deserving of a warriors death."

"We came here for Fisk," I said.

"Guess you'll have to do." The Mask pulled the two sticks, that Stick had given him, out of his leg holster, placing one in each hand. My grip on my string tightened. "I think I should warn you," I said. "The last ninja I fought is dead."

"I show you respect," Nobu said. "You would be wise to return the courtesy." His words angered me more than I thought they would. While it's true that the last ninja I fought is dead…that was a battle I barely made it out of. I closed my eyes, trying to control my breathing. If I remember everything S.H.I.E.L.D. taught me, I just might make it out of here alive. I reopened my eyes, staring straight at Nobu. I mustered up as much confidence as I could and said, "Why don't you make me."

Nobu instantly became enraged. He started flinging darts at us. I smacked a couple out of the air with my bow, while the Mask got the rest, quickly advancing on Nobu. I recovered my arrow and put it back into place in my bow. The two men quickly began a fist fight. Within a few seconds, the Mask was on the ground. I rapidly launched arrow after arrow at Nobu. He spun around, quickly deflecting them. Maybe my bow shouldn't be my weapon of choice for this one.

The Mask stood back up, confronting Nobu again. I sighed in indecision. I folded away my bow, sliding it into its holster as I ran up behind Nobu. I slipped out two of my knives, firmly gripping them in my hands. Nobu punched the Mask as he was coming out of one of his flips. Blood flew out of his mouth as he was tossed across the room. Nobu spun, swinging his leg at me. I bent back, letting his leg fly over me.

I quickly straightened, looking for his next move. He swung his fist at me. I twisted, my back now facing Nobu. I drove my right knife into the inside of his forearm. I jumped, back flipping over the top of him, dragging his arm with me. He spun to the left, kicking me in the stomach as his shoulder popped out of its socket. I flew back and slammed into the concrete floor, taking the knife with me. The Mask was standing now, and running at Nobu. I quickly got to me feet, not wanting to give him a chance to recover.

The Mask swung at an incredible speed, Nobu keeping up. He deflected each swing perfectly. The Mask got down and swung his leg across the ground, trying to trip him. Nobu jumped just out of his reach. I ran up behind him and jumped, planting both feet in Nobu's back. I pushed off of him, back flipping and then landing. Nobu slammed into the ground. He spun, quickly countering the Mask's advance. That didn't even seem to faze him. Nobu spun and kicked the Mask, sending him flying into a wall.

I quickly put the knives away and went for my bow. I pulled it out and drew back an arrow. I launched five arrows at him. Each one he deflected, walking closer to me. He kicked me in the side. I slightly bent over, then ignored the cracking sound as another fist came my way. I leaned forward on my left foot, then spun and drove the heal of my right at him. He front flipped over my leg. I quickly recovered, launching another arrow. This one made contact. It lodged itself into the back of his shoulder.

The Mask got to his feet, blood running out of the side of his mouth. Nobu pulled the arrow out and threw it to the side. Then he pulled out a new weapon. He stared at me, letting it dangle at his side. It was a knife with a hooked blade attacked to the end of a chain. I have just enough time to see the weapon, let alone think of it's name, before it's flung in my face. I raised my bow, blocking it. The blade sparked against my metal bow as I deflected it to the side. The Mask stepped in, and Nobu swung it at him.

He raised his arms, while taking a step back. The blades sliced across his fore arms. I cringed and righted my bow. I stepped closer to Nobu as the Mask recovered and attacked. I readied two arrows, then waited for an opening. I saw my chance and released the arrows. Both of them skimmed Nobu's flesh, as he sliced a large gash into the Mask's chest. But no one was backing down. Maybe I should take a kill shot. End this before we're both dead. I readied an arrow, my last one. I aimed for Nobu's head.

He kicked the Mask sending him rolling across the floor. Then he spun and swung that thing at me. I released my arrow, then quickly brought up my bow. The tip of the bow just barley caught the end of the blade. The rest of it slammed into the side of my head. I flew back, dropping my bow, and crashed into a concrete pillar.

I bounced off the pillar and face planted into the ground. I laid there for a second, my thoughts slightly fuzzy. All I could think was that I needed to hurry and get back on my feet. I grimaced, pushing myself up onto my hands and knees. I don't know how long I was on the floor, but things seemed to have progressed in the fight. I glanced around the room, my vision dancing, sometimes doubling. My head pounded like I was hit by a truck.

From what I could see, the Mask had a lot more cuts on him. But he was still going and so was Nobu. I looked back at the ground. Blood dripped from the left side of my head to a puddle that had formed on the ground. I brushed the stream of blood back so it wouldn't go in my eye. Then I bit my lip and jumped to my feet. I planted my feet firmly into the ground, steadying myself as the room spun. I blinked a few times and then took in my surroundings.

The Mask lay of his back on the other side of the room. He looked like he was having a hard time mustering the strength to stand. Nobu stood a few feet away, twirling that thing in the air. I glanced around. My bow lay on the ground about twenty feet away. A few of the arrows Nobu had deflected lay not too far from it. I looked back at the Mask. He was on his feet now and fighting again.

Nobu had him pinned against a pillar and swung his blade at him. It ripped across the Mask's stomach. He screamed and then quickly tried to counter. I ran across the room to my bow. Nobu caught sight of me and flung his blade my way. I stopped as it flew in front of me. I dove over the metal chain and then rolled to my feet on the other side. I got to my feet and was hit with a major dizzy attack. I felt so light headed I almost fell over. The vision in my right eye was turning black.

I must have a concussion. And a bad one. I blinked, trying to get it to go away, to get my vision to return. Then I felt a sharp sting across my right calf. I screamed and fell to my knees. With Nobu to my right, I couldn't see the blade coming at me. It dug into the right side of my collar bone. Then he pulled on it and it raked across my shoulder and arm. I fell to the right, slamming into the ground as I heard the metal blade scrape across the floor. The pain was so great, I almost couldn't feel it.

I felt blood pouring out of the wound and rolling down my arm, causing my leather jacket to stick to my skin. I could hear the Mask getting ripped apart. Flesh tearing and blood splattering. I looked up just in time to see Nobu's blade wrap around the Mask and dig into his stomach. Nobu pulled him down on the ground, so he was flat on his back. Then he began to drag him across the floor by the blade embedded in his stomach. The Mask screamed, trying to get the blade out while being drug.

My vision was still in and out and I was still light headed. And the blood loss isn't helping. I propped myself up on my right arm, screaming at the pain. I reached down to my grappling hook and pulled it. I aimed for Nobu and launched it. The hook went out and found it's way around Nobu's neck. It wrapped around it a few times before digging it's hook into his flesh.

He instantly recoiled, dropping the chain dragging the Mask. I pushed off the ground with my injured arm, screaming. I sat back onto my feet and put both hands on the grappling hook. Nobu recovered his metal chain, holding the blade the Mask had just dug out of himself.

Nobu pulled back to throw the blade at me. I pulled as hard as I could on the cord wrapped around his neck. He was jerked forward, but still standing. The Mask got to his feet and jumped in the air, planting both feet on Nobu's chest. I pulled hard on the cord, not letting go. When the Mask kicked him, Nobu's feet left the ground. And because I didn't let go, Nobu was pulled face first into the ground.

But a second too late. Nobu had already thrown the blade at me. So as Nobu hit the ground, it hit me. The blade went tip first into the left side of my stomach. I didn't scream this time, only gasped. Nobu and the Mask were both on the ground, reeling in pain. I was breathing heavily, gasping from the pain. Then, a split second later, the blade was ripped from my stomach. I was slightly pulled forward with it.

I instinctively put my right hand on the ground to stop me from hitting it. But the pain in my collar bone and upper shoulder was too great. My arm buckled and I hit the ground anyway. I rolled onto my back, gasping. I felt like I'd drown in my own blood. "You have fought well." Nobu's voice echoed through the building.

I rolled to my left, onto my stomach. Nobu was standing over the Mask, blade in hand. I dropped my head, knowing there was nothing I could do. "It is…not enough," Nobu said. The Mask was trying to pull himself away, but he too was injured badly. Nobu's words echoed through my head as a shot of adrenaline coursed through my veins.

I looked to my right and saw my bow, an arrow lying next to it. I grabbed it with my right arm, then sat up. I didn't think about the pain. I pushed it to the darkest place in my mind. We are not dying here tonight. I held the bow with my right hand and placed the arrow in it with my left. I raised the bow, the pain threatening to take over.

I bit down hard on my lip, as I saw the metal barrels behind Nobu. One was gushing liquid. I pulled back the string as far as I could. My right hand shook and the bow started slipping in my hand from the blood. "I need help with this one," I whispered and let go of the string. The Mask sprang to life.

He rolled to the side and grabbed the stick lying next to him, then flipped to his feet. He swung his arm, using the stick to deflect the arrow to the light fixture above. The bulb shattered and sparks flew everywhere, raining down on Nobu. He instantly burst into flames. He started screaming and flailing his arms.

Nobu dropped the chain and ran at the Mask. He kicked as the Mask deflected. The Mask punched and Nobu stepped to the side. Both men slipped and hit the deck. The Mask was just slightly moving, but Nobu had gone still. Now, the only sound in the room was of Nobu roasting in the corner.

I sighed. My bow slipped from my hands and clattered to the ground. The air seemed to become thinner and it was getting harder to breath. I heaved a few times, on the verge of passing out. "Angel!" I heard the Mask's voice but was too weak to reply or even look at him. I slumped to the ground with a thump. The vision in my eye was going in and out as I stared at the ceiling.

As few seconds later, I felt the Mask's arms around me. He was crouched down next to me, pulling me up into his arms. He was soaked in blood. "Angel." I was staring right at him, yet he said my name like he wasn't sure if I was awake. I sighed heavily. "Still here," I said. He sighed with relief, breathing heavily.

"Thank you." I heard a man's voice echo off the walls. But even on the verge of unconsciousness, I recognized that voice. The fat man himself. "Nobu was becoming an issue." The Mask held me tighter, going rigid. He was looking past me, towards where we'd come in at. "I appreciate you…removing him from concern."

"You…wanted me to do this," the Mask said, breathing more heavily now as fresh adrenaline was pouring into him.

"In a perfect world," Fisk said, "you three would've taken each other out, but..." I turned my head toward Fisk. He wasn't alone. Wesley and two other men stood with him. One of the men I couldn't see. I sighed and let my head roll back. "It isn't a perfect world, is it? Not yet! To be honest, it took longer than I expected. Nobu didn't mind. He meditated for hours. I find it difficult to meditate. My mind, it won't quiet. It's a character flaw, I suppose. We all have them."

"You, for instance," Fisk continued. My breathing calmed, going back to normal. The Mask slid his hand around mine and squeezed it. He must've heard the drop in my heart beat. How are we going to get out of this? Even if I had arrows, there's no way I could use my bow. "You've demonstrated an emotional weakness for children and women. I assumed that would extend to the elderly. So I baited the hook. Here you are, here both of you are. An added bonus, in my book."

"You took her life…just to get my attention?" the Mask asked.

"Nobu forced my hand in the matter. My options, they were limited by necessity. I took no pleasure in her passing," Fisk said. The Mask looked down at me. This was an impossible situation. One we both weren't going to get out of. "If you have the chance," I whispered. "Leave me. I'm okay, just go." He bent down and kissed me on the forehead. Then he carefully laid me down on the ground. He stood and looked at Fisk.

"I'm…gonna kill you," he said. I looked over at Fisk. He seemed unfazed. His men, however, they raised their guns. The third man stepped out from behind Fisk and I was able to see him. Oh my goodness. I nearly broke down crying. Ben stood next to Wesley, a gun aimed at the man I love. How could my own brother betray me like this? He knows it's me!

I gaped at him. "You!" I said it as forceful as I could. Ben looked down at me. He smirked an evil smile. "Sorry, _Angel_ ," he mocked. "I got a better deal." He didn't even have one drop of remorse in his voice at all. His sister is lying on the ground dying and he doesn't care. Fisk held out his hands, calling off his men. They lowered their guns.

Fisk stepped forward. "Take you shot," he said. The Mask stepped forward and instantly started punching Fisk. He acted like it was nothing and made his move. Fisk put his hand on the back of the Mask's head and used it as leverage as he started punching his stomach. I knew this was going to get ugly, so I ever so slightly started pulling myself away from them. I pulled myself a few feet, until I was against the wall of the room and couldn't go any further.

Fisk punched him so hard he flew to the ground. He seemed to be enjoying himself too much. The Mask stood, going back for more. Within a few seconds he was on the ground again. The Mask grabbed Nobu's blade. He quickly spun, swinging it toward Fisk. Fisk stepped back, so it only cut his jacket. He punched the Mask and sent him flying into a desk.

I closed my eyes, feeling light headed again. I glanced around the room. There's nothing I can do to help. Even if I tried, those men with their guns would shoot me. The Mask lay on the floor as Fisk beat him. I lost track of how many times he punched him. Then he picked him up, grabbed his throat. Fisk slammed him against the wall before throwing him to the side. I closed my eyes again and listened to the sound of the wooden table braking as the Mask crashed into it.

But the Mask was still alive. I couldn't see him anymore, but I could hear him grunting and moaning. I don't know if it's a good thing he's still alive or not. Fisk whipped his face with a handkerchief as he turned to me. "It's disappointing," he said. Then he walked up to me. My right eye went black again, then I blinked it way. "Get her up." His men quickly moved, Ben and the other guy. They came up to me and each grabbed an arm. They hefted me to my feet. I screamed as the guy pulled on my arm.

I didn't fight them. I wanted too. But, I need to wait for the right spot to make any move I might have. I hissed and moaned at having to standing. My head swirled slightly. Guess it's my turn for a beating. Fisk walked up to me and punched me in the face. He pulled back as the men straightened me. I spit out a wad of blood. "Is this what you do?" I asked between breaths. "Beat people to death?"

"Only the ones who have…made things…difficult for me," he replied. I looked into his eyes. All I could see was rage and darkness. This man doesn't have a soul. He punched me again, and again. Then he moved down to my stomach. With each punch the men had to stand me back up. My shoulder throbbed from them holding me. I lost track of how many times he'd hit it. He punched me again and I sank to my knees. The men were about to pull me up when Fisk said, "Let her go."

They each let go, and I was on my way to the floor. I was fighting to stay awake. Fisk caught my callar and pulled up. He put his hand around my throat and then slammed me into the closest wall. His fingers dug into my throat, cutting off my air supply. He loosened slightly and looked to my left. "Let her go." I could just barely hear the Mask's voice. I turned my head as best I could. He was still of the floor, slowly getting to his knees. "It's me you want."

"I know," Fisk said. "But, by bringing her, you've forced my hand." I pulled at Fisk's hand, trying to get it off my throat.

"Go!" It came out slightly garbled. I sighed and whispered the rest, "Please. Go."

"Wesley," Fisk said. Wesley pulled out his gun.

"You can't save me, Mask. But you can still save this city," I continued. "Please. Save yourself…and stop Fisk another day."

"Shoot him!" Fisk realized what I was doing. He squeezed tighter. Wesley raised his gun as the Mask stumbled to his feet. He threw something at Wesley's gun, causing Wesley to shoot thin air. The Mask stumbled a few feet, then launched himself through the glass window. I heard water splash a few seconds later, as Fisk's men rushed to the window. "Put men on the dock. If they see the Mask, put a bullet in him." I sighed, closing my eyes as one of Fisk's men ran off to tell the others.

At least now he has a chance. "What about her?" Wesley nodded toward me. He's supposed to be on our side. He either played us or he has to follow through to keep his place at Fisk's side. I hope that's the case. And I hope he still helps the Mask even after I'm gone. Fisk looked at me. I could tell his intentions were still to kill me, he just couldn't decide how. He threw me across the room. I slammed into the hard concrete floor and then rolled.

"You might not have ever gotten in my way," Fisk said. I coughed and sputtered, spitting out blood. "But, it'll hurt the man in the mask when you're gone. Knowing I took another woman from him." He walked up to me and kicked me in the stomach. I flew a foot and then hit the ground. He kicked me again and I rolled onto my back. I wheezed, just wishing he'd get it over with. He grabbed my collar again and pulled me up. He threw me into the wall a few feet away.

I lost vision in my right eye again as I bounced off the wall. He caught me as I fell and then began punching me in the stomach. Once he was satisfied, he threw me back into the wall. This time, he let me fall to the ground. "I hope you know," Fisk said, "your death will be blamed on the Mask. Everyone will know how he brutally murdered the woman he was working with. You…you will be remembered as another one of his victims." I lay on my side, reeling. I rolled onto my back as best I could.

I could barely feel anything, the pain was too much. I looked up at Fisk. "No," I heaved. "Because…when he's done with you…you'll be remembered as the devil who killed…the Angel of Hell's Kitchen."

"I do…admire your loyalty to him," Fisk said. He walked up to Wesley and took his gun. "Loyal till the end." He walked back up to me, standing a couple feet away. "I'm sorry you had to be a casualty of war. But, you've left me no choice." He pointed the gun at me and fired. I barely moaned as the bullet entered my torso. Fisk lowered the gun, then changed his mind, raised it and shot me again.

"What about Nobu?" Ben asked. Fisk turned to him as he gave Wesley back his gun.

"Let him burn." I heard footsteps leaving as my eye lids grew heavy. "We'll come back once she's dead. Find a spot to dump th-" Their voice's faded out. And soon I couldn't hear anything. I was just lying, alone, in this ware house waiting to bleed out. Waiting to die. There was no saving me. Nothing I could do. Nothing anyone could do. No one knows I'm here. My brother betrayed me. He helped the man who's killed me. Why did he do it? I guess I'll never know. I just hope he doesn't do the same to Mary. I'm the only one who knows he's a traitor.

I let my eyes close, as the pool around me grew bigger. I was struggling for every breath. So I just stopped. I let nature take its course. There's no reason to keep fighting. I'm already dead. My body went limp. My head rolled to the side, and for a moment…there wasn't any pain.

My mind wondered to the Mask. I know how he is. He's going to blame himself for my death. I hope Alison will set him straight, keep him going. I never even got the chance to tell him everything. My name, how I feel. I guess I waited too long. But I hope he's okay. And someday moves on. But, most of all…I hope he's far away from here. I don't want him to hear my heart stop.


	20. Dani

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I jolted out of a deep sleep, my ears immediately filled with the high-pitched sound of my cell phone ringing. I sighed and reached for my nightstand in the dark. It took fumbling with the switch a moment but I got the lamp on and grabbed my phone off the stand. Foggy's number lit up the screen. With how things were left when I took him home, I'm not surprised he'd be calling me at—I checked the clock—oh, great, three am. I inhaled and answered the call, "Hey, Foggy. What's up?"

"AlisonIneedyourhelpMattshurthescoveredinbloodIdontknowwhattodoyouhavetohelpme-"

"Whoa, Foggy, slow down," I pulled myself up to sit, swinging my legs off the bed. "Where are you?"

"I'm at Matt's apartment." He was obviously trying to stay calm. Honestly, so was I. My heart raced as I practically dove from my bed and ran to my closet. "Okay, tell me what happened—slowly," I said, positioning the phone between my head and shoulder. I pulled on a random pair of jeans and then started looking for a t-shirt.

"I came to Matt's place because I needed to talk to him. At first I thought he wasn't home, but then he came out of the bedroom all bloody and cut to-"

"Is he still breathing?" I interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah, he's breathing."

"I'll be there as soon as I can okay? Just try to keep pressure on anything actively bleeding," I instructed, before hanging up. I slid my phone in my pocket and pulled on my sweatshirt-like-jacket. Chase was sound asleep and, once again, I had to wake him up for an emergency. This time I couldn't really drop him off with Dani or Mary—that would draw unwanted attention.

So first I grabbed my med bag out of the hall bathroom, and then I headed into Chase's room. I hurried to his bedside and shook him. "Chase! Chase, honey, come on. Time to wake up," I said. He groaned and rolled over toward me, rubbing his eyes groggily. "It's so dark outside," he wheezed, half-asleep.

"I know, but we need to go somewhere. You can sleep once we get there, alright?"

I peeled back his blankets and slid my arms under his shoulders to heft him up. He was getting to be too heavy for my frail arms. It gave me a mental note to start working out. I lifted him up and he clung to my neck, resting his weight on my hip, and I started out for the door. I tried to think of what all Matt could've done to get himself nearly killed, but I didn't have to for long. Elena Cardenas's murder hit everyone at Nelson and Murdock pretty hard.

It actually isn't that shocking to find he did something about it. I managed to get Chase into the car and buckled him in, then get myself inside. I was half-asleep, too, running on fumes. That, and I was also still a little fuzzy from all the drinking at Josie's. But it wasn't like I _couldn't_ drive to Matt's. So I threw it in drive and stepped on the gas. It didn't take long to get there, thanks to most of the empty streets. Chase was woken up a bit more when we arrived, but he was still groggy.

I carry him to Matt's door and then put him on his feet to knock. "Foggy, It's me," I said, a second before the door whipped open. Foggy looked like a wreck. I didn't wait for words, I just pulled Chase into the apartment with me and Foggy shut the door behind us. Two steps into the living room and I could see Matt, dressed as the Mask, plastered to the floor near the couch. Foggy was right about the blood. It was all over him. I turned to Foggy. "Can you keep Chase busy? I don't want him seeing this," I said.

"Yeah, sure," he said, numbly. "Come on, buddy."

He took Chase over toward the dining/kitchen area and I hurried to kneel beside Matt. I checked for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. I dug through the med bag and pulled out my suture kit. Thankfully for Matt I'd recently restocked my depleted supply cabinet. I even got new needles. Next I grabbed the scissors. I pulled the fabric of his shirt away from his skin at the neck and cut a line down to the hem, making all of his injuries visible.

It was gruesome to look at, to say the least. Deep slashes and cuts marred his chest and abdomen with missing chucks of skin. The first thing was sewing up the slashes and stopping the bleeding. So I readied a needle and started sewing. There were two main slashes on his chest, so I started there. My hands were threatening to tremble. What if I couldn't fix this? Suddenly the steady rise and fall of his chest stopped and I paused. I checked for a pulse. Nothing.

"No, no, no, no, no," I tied off my current suture and moved in position, placing my hands palm down—one atop the other—in the center of his chest, and started pushing. "Don't you die on me, Murdock." I titled his head back, holding his nose closed, and blew air through his mouth. I checked for a pulse. Still nothing. I moved back to pumping his chest. This couldn't be happening. I couldn't be the only thing standing between life and death for him.

A pang of sadness mixed with guilt hit my chest. If he didn't make it, the last thing we said to each other was full of anger and spite. I pulled together all the strength I could and pumped harder. He was not going to die today. I breathed into his mouth a second time and checked for a pulse. I waited, hoping, maybe actually praying a little. A moment of silence passed. And then I felt it. A small, steady thump against my fingers. I dropped back on my knees and breathed a sigh of relief.

I pulled myself upright again and started another suture on his chest. I tried to work faster, but my hands were actually shaking now, making it a bit difficult. But I pressed on, finishing off the last suture for the first wound. Only eight-hundred left to go. I started on the second chest wound. Once I finished it, I moved to the large gash on his right side, closer to his waist. It looked like the worst of all of them. What did he do? Or, more importantly, who did this to him?

I couldn't waist time thinking. I sewed what I could and put a thick gauze bandage over what I couldn't. There were two smaller cuts that needed stitches higher up on his abdomen, so I started on those next. After that, I found a small cut on the right side of his head that needed butterfly bandages. Foggy ambled over after a few minutes. I glanced up at him. "He'll be okay," I assured.

"Where'd you even learn how to do that?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter," I shook my head, turning back to Matt's head wound. "What matters is that I got here in time."

"So this doesn't bother you? My best friend is laying on the floor bleeding and you're acting like it's just another day at the office." I didn't respond at first. I didn't even really know how to respond. Foggy knows now that Matt is the Man in the Mask, the man Foggy seemed to loath just the other day. And now he's going to know that I knew the whole time and was aiding him in his efforts. "Foggy, I-"

"You knew the whole time, didn't you?" he demanded, getting angrier by the second. When I didn't say anything for a second, he added, " _Didn't you_?" I finished with the head wound and stood, whirling to face Foggy. "Yes, I knew. There. You happy?" I asked, annoyed. "I found out after I'd been _kidnapped_ and _beaten_ half to death, and _he_ came and got me out with Angel. When she left, he stayed behind to make sure I was okay."

"So you thought you'd help him risk his life even more?" he asked, raising his voice.

"I thought I'd return the favor, Foggy! He saved my life, so I saved his. End of story. Now, do you want him to die while you act like a child, or do you want to help me save him?" His expression of anger didn't change, but he didn't argue any further. "What do you need me to do?" he asked.

"Help me get him on the couch," I answered, trying to calm myself again. I moved around to Matt's front and Foggy moved to get his legs. Together, we hefted Matt up and onto the couch while trying our hardest not to rip open any of my stitching. Once Matt was on the couch, Foggy went to the kitchen. I glanced over at the table and sighed. Chase was slumped on his chair, face first into the table, sound asleep. I went into Matt's room and pulled a blanket off his bed, then took it back to the living room.

I draped it over Matt's body and started cleaning up. The sun was just starting to rise. I could tell because of the shift in light through the windows. I picked up the wrappers from the gauze and extra clippings of thread and took them to the kitchen trash. Foggy dropped into a chair at the table. I wasn't sure that saying anything was a good idea, but I needed to ask. "How did you know to call me?" I asked, cautiously.

He took a drink from a beer he must've found in Matt's fridge, and I moved to lean into the back of the couch. "I didn't," he finally answered. "I tried to take Matt to the hospital at first, but he took a swing at me, told me to call _you_. I thought it was weird...but he needed help. And, obviously, he trusted you to do it."

"Foggy...I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I wanted to tell you-"

"Then why didn't you?" he asked, looking to me.

"It's not my secret to tell. It's Matt's. And he wasn't ready for that," I answered, calmly. Just then, I had a thought. If Matt was out tonight getting beaten to death...where's Dani? Was Angel even with him, or did he go solo? It prompted me to pull out my cell phone and dial her number. I held the phone to my ear and listened to it ring, then go to voice mail. I cursed under my breath and redialed. Dread was starting to fill my stomach.

Foggy gave me an odd look. "What's wrong?"

"I just, um...really need to get ahold of Dani," I said, dialing a third time. "Have you heard from her? After she left Josie's?" He paused, quiet a moment. Then his eyes rounded and he pulled out his cell phone. I raised an eyebrow at his actions. Why would he be freaked out that she didn't answer? Unless...oh dear. He knows. I gaped. "Foggy!"

"What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Do you know?" I asked.

"Do I know what?

"About Dani!" I clarified, getting slightly annoyed. He grumbled and slammed his fingers into his phone key pad, redialing again. "It depends. What do _you_ know?" he asked, turning to me. I pushed off the couch and walked over to the table. He cursed as it went to voicemail again. "I know that there's a ninety-nine percent chance that she was out doing some illegal stuff last night and she's not answering her phone," I said, worriedly. "This could mean she's either a sleep, or half dead like our lawyer friend over here."

"Ah man, you know about her, to? When did she tell you?"

"That's not the point, Foggy!"

"I'll go by her place and see if she's home," Foggy said, getting up from the table. He hurried to the door, grabbing his coat off the rack, and then practically ran out. All my nerves were wracked. Seeing how bad off Matt is, Dani doesn't stand a chance out there without medical attention. That gave me an idea and I dialed Foggy's number. He answered on the first ring, "Yeah?"

"Hey, while you're out, check the hospital and see if they brought in any Jane Doe's last night," I instructed.

"Oh, yeah, good idea. You really think she was out there last night?" he asked, sounding as worried as I felt.

I shook my head, glancing down at Matt. "I don't know...but if she was, we'll find her, okay?"

"You're right. I'm at Dani's. I'll talk to you when I find something." With that, he ended the call, and another pang of sadness and regret slammed into my chest. I dropped my phone on the table and peeled Chase from his chair. I hefted his limp form and carried him into Matt's room, laying him on the bed. I pulled one of the remaining blankets up over him and kissed his forehead, sitting beside him. The poor boy never seems to get any sleep.

I'm always waking him up for emergencies. I sat with him a moment, trying to keep my mind off the current situation. It was almost impossible. I found another blanket in the closet and brought it with me to the living room. I dropped into one of the living room chairs and brought my feet up into the chair with me. I pulled the blanket over me, waiting for Foggy's call. The room kept getting brighter and bright with every passing minute.

Finally, Foggy called me. I sprinted to the dining table and answered the phone, "What did you find?" There was a sigh on the other end that didn't sound too excited, followed by a few muffled words. "She's not home, Mary hasn't heard from her," Foggy said, angrily. "I'm heading to the hospital now."

"Okay...that doesn't mean-"

"It's exactly what it means, Alison." I recoiled a bit at his harsh tone. It was a stressful situation for all of us, but Foggy's acting like a completely different person. I squared my jaw. "Fine. Call me when you know anything," I said, as stoic as possible. With that, I ended the call, putting my phone back on the table. I checked the time. Seven am. I'm supposed to be at work soon. And Chase needs to go to school. I can't leave Matt, so I guess I'm calling out sick.

I picked my phone back up and dialed Ellison's number. He answered on the fourth ring, "Hello?"

"Hey, Ellison, it's Alison Fletcher. I just wanted to let you know that I will be using one of my vacation days today," I told him.

"Oh, okay. Is everything alright?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I'm just not feeling too well."

"Alright. Well, get better soon, then."

"Thanks. I'll see you on Monday." I hung up the phone and dropped it on the table, then headed back for my chair. Just as I passed the end of the couch, I heard a groan and lurched in a startle, whirling. Matt's eyes were open. He pulled at the blanket and I sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. You're okay." I walked the rest of the way around the couch and crouched to be level with him. "Alison? How are you here?" he asked.

"Foggy said you told him to call me? Last night." He managed to get the blanket down and he reached for the bandage on his side. I grabbed his hand to stop him. "Whoa, you don't want to touch that," I said. "That took a while to get put back together; I don't need you ripping it open again."

"Have you heard from Angel?" he asked, tilting his head a bit toward me.

I shook my head. "No, not yet-"

"I need to find her," he started pushing himself up using the back of the couch. "I need to-" I shot up and gripped his shoulders, gently putting him back on the couch. "No, you don't. You're not going anywhere, okay? Foggy's out checking the hospitals now," I told him.

"Why-" he hissed as he adjusted his position. "Why is _Foggy_ out looking?"

"Because he's the one that found you and he needed something to do," I—mostly—lied. "You know, you almost died. I had to use CPR." He exhaled, momentarily closing his eyes. Then he reopened them and looked more toward me. "Alison, I...I'm sorry, about all of this," he apologized. "I keep trying not to involve you, but-"

"Don't. All that matters is that you're okay. And Dani will be, too."

"Dani?" Matt asked, sounding confused. I paused, realizing what had just slipped out of my mouth. "What's wrong with Dani?" I sighed heavily and dropped my head into my hands. Could I be more of a tattle-tell? I pulled over my chair beside the couch and sat, trying to think of what to say. "Matt...was Angel with you last night?" I asked.

"Yeah...she was."

"Dani is Angel. Or Angel is Dani, however you want to look at it."

"W-what?" His voice was small, quiet. Just then, Foggy came into the apartment. I turned to see him as he came into the living room. "Why didn't you call?" I questioned. He went straight into the fridge and pulled out another beer, dropping into a chair at the table. "There was no reason to. She wasn't there," he said, depressed.

My chest felt hollow. But I tried to stay optimistic. "Okay...maybe she's somewhere in between? Maybe she just couldn't get home-"

"Alison, _stop_ ," Foggy snapped. "She's not at the hospital because there's nothing left to find."

"You don't know that," I protested, standing.

"Yes, I do," he turned to see me with a grief-stricken expression. "But what I really don't know, is why Matt came home and she didn't."

I crossed my arms. "Don't do that."

"Why not, Alison? Why not?" He got to his feet.

"He's right," Matt's voice was quiet, saddened. "She should be here, not me."

"Okay, both of you stop it!" I demanded, swallowing a lump in my throat. My eyes started to sting and I tried blinking it away as I glanced between the two men. Foggy shook his head and headed for the door. "Foggy, stop," I tried, walking toward him. He turned on me, anger in his eyes. I stopped dead in my tracks. "How can you not see what's going on right in front of your face?" he shouted. "She's dead! Dani's dead and I don't even know who my best friend is anymore!"

All I could do was watch as he turned and left, slamming the door as he went. It felt like my insides had been scooped out with a spoon. The whole apartment was silent. I turned and slowly stepped back to my chair, dropping into it like I was dead weight. "Alison..."

I dropped my head into my hands as a sob racked my body. The truth is Foggy was probably right. But I wiped my eyes and sniffled back the wave of water threatening to crush me, and sat upright. "She has to be out there somewhere. I'll call Mary and see what she knows," I thought aloud, standing. I was jerked to a stop by a grip on my wrist and I glanced down. Matt looked as broken as I felt. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came.

It was just a supportive 'I'm here for you' look. I managed a small, closed-mouthed smile and a nod. "I'm fine," I waved it away, pulling free from his grasp. I hurried to my phone at the table. "We'll all be fine, as soon as I find Dani." I sniffled again to keep myself together and dialed Mary's number.


	21. How to Save a Life

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Mary answered on the second ring. Her tone was as frantic as I'd felt not thirty minutes ago. "Hello?" she asked. She must not have recognized the caller ID. I inhaled. "Hi, it's Alison. Fletcher. You met my colleague earlier—Foggy-"

"Nelson? I remember. Has Dani tried to contact you?"

"I was actually just going to ask you the same thing," I said, my shoulders dropping. "Did she say anything to you? Has she mentioned any safe houses she might have around the city?" She was quiet a second on the other end, probably thinking. Then she sighed and I braced myself for an empty answer. "No, I don't think so. Where are you? I can help with the search efforts," she offered, followed by a shuffle.

I was quick to try to stop her. "No, no- that's okay. We've got things handled here."

"Alison," I twisted around at the sound of Matt's voice. He was sitting up now, looking in my general direction over the back of the couch. He'd obviously been listening to the whole phone call. "Let her help." My eyebrows knitted together in confusion and I turned to face him fully, pushing the intake speaker on the phone away from my mouth. "She'll know who you are," I pointed out.

"I know. But she's the only family around that Dani has."

I pulled the phone back. "Actually, why don't you come by? Maybe you can help after all," I said, interrupting whatever in the world she was saying. I'd missed the world's longest run-on sentence. I rattled off Matt's address. She immediately switched gears and I could hear a baby wailing in the background. "Okay, great. I'll be there soon," with that, she hung up.

I exhaled and dropped my phone on the table. "This is a bad idea, you know that, right?"

"We don't really have much of a choice, Alison." Right. Honestly, we did. Keep it under our hats until we find some proof that Dani is okay somewhere, then go to her relatives and break the news. It was a horrible idea to include family. But I pushed it aside in my mind as best I could and went to the couch.

I dropped onto the cushion beside Matt and turned myself toward him. "I need to check this," I informed, as my fingers gripped the corner of the large bandage on his side. He stayed silent with nothing but a worn look on his face as I slowly pulled back the bandaging. "She's stronger than you think," I said, suddenly. It just kind of came out. I quickly added, "Dani, I mean."

"You weren't there, you didn't-" he stopped himself, inhaling deeply. As he exhaled, he finished, "You didn't see the blood. She was barely alive when I...I left her." I sat back after pushing the bandage back against his skin. Looking at his face was a mistake. It was grief stricken like I've never seen. Not on anyone but myself. My heart sank. I swallowed. "Matt, you can't do that," I shook my head.

"Why not? That's exactly what I did. She told me to leave and, like an idiot, I listened to her. I just took off without doubling back to make sure she was okay," he vented, getting subtly angrier by the syllable.

"How on earth do you think you could've gone back for her? In the state you were in last night? It was a miracle you got out in the first place," It's funny, I was arguing to him about him. But the more I talked about it, the more I wanted to crawl in a hole and pretend it wasn't happening. "Dani is alive out there somewhere, okay? You can't give up that easily—she wouldn't want you to."

"I heard a gunshot, Alison! Right after I got out of the water, I heard a gunshot," he snapped a bit. I took in a breath, desperately trying to force my heart together. There was a line being carved straight through the middle and the two halves it was creating were threatening to split apart. I knew if I let that happen, I wouldn't be able to put myself back together. Matt looked like he was about to cry a second before the tears started down his cheeks.

He moved to sit facing straight forward, looking away from me. My eyes prickled with water and I quickly swallowed them down as best I could. "Y-you don't...you don't know for sure," I tried, aimlessly. "She could have gotten away, just like you did."

"Alison, stop," he sniffled.

"I'm not giving up on her!" I stood abruptly, using my grief to somehow generate enough strength to get angry. "I won't. I can't lose _another_ person I care about." Matt didn't say anything, just cried quietly there on the couch. I was almost completely sure he was ignoring me now. He'd given up, come to the conclusion that she was dead, and it hurt too much to think about. I instantly felt bad. Even though I knew she wasn't dead, he believed she was.

And constantly harping on him about finding her alive was just constantly perpetuating a false hope in his mind that could never be true for him. I dropped back down on the couch beside him and wrapped my arms loosely around his shoulders, pulling him into me in a hug. A small sob escaped him and his face buried into my shoulder. I bit my quivering lip, eyes welling up, trying to keep it together. Suddenly a quick knock sounded from the door.

But I didn't want to let him go. Though, I knew I had to. I pulled myself away and quickly stood, hurrying over to the front. I paused at the door, hand almost to the knob, and my stomach twisted. What if it was Dani? What if she made it back? I inhaled and pulled open the door. Mary looked a bit ashen, a baby in one hand and a carrier in the other. "Mary, come in," I stepped back, pulling the door with me.

Just then, a tall man with dark hair stepped up beside her. "You forgot this in the car," he told Mary, holding up a purse. I raised a brief eyebrow as he turned toward the door, seeing me. "Hi there. I'm Clint Barton—Dani's cousin." He held out his hand to shake and I hesitantly shook it. "Alison Fletcher," I nodded once.

I moved back again and Mary stepped inside, followed shortly by Clint. I shut the door behind them and hurried around in front so I could be the first one in the living room. "Matt, Mary and Dani's cousin are here," I announced, stopping a few feet from the couch. Only then did I notice Matt wasn't on the couch. A second later, he emerged from the bedroom, zipping up a jacket. He didn't look any better than before but at least he wasn't topless.

"Hi. I'm-"

"Murdock, right?" Clint asked, knowing. "We actually kind of met before. I was the naked guy in her office."

My eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"It's a long story. We're here to help. Where have you searched already?" Clint asked, waving it away. He seemed to be all business—which was exactly what we needed. I loosely wrapped my arms around myself and turned to be able to see everyone at once. "We checked the local hospitals already, we know she isn't home...she isn't at my place or Foggy's," I listed, trying to think.

"Just so we're all clear...he's the Man in the Mask and Dani is the Angel of Hell's Kitchen, right?" Clint asked, rhetorically, pointing a thumb in Matt's direction. I nodded a little, hesitant, and he gave a solid nod before turning to Matt. "Good. Where did you last see her?"

I wrote down an address Matt rattled off and Clint headed out to check the warehouse. I needed something to keep me busy—and so did Mary—so I started calling the hospitals to check again, just in case she came to one a little late, and Mary started randomly doing dishes in Matt's kitchen. Mary's baby, Elizabeth, was very awake and needed watching, so I held her while I made the calls. It reminded me of back when it was just me and Chase.

He was only six months old and I was desperately trying to find a job. He would fall asleep in my arms while I stayed up late, looking for jobs online. Then we'd be right back there the next morning while I made calls about the jobs I'd found the night before. It was a vicious cycle until I got picked up at the Bugle. Then it was babysitters and working weekends but we had food on the table. There were a lot of times during all that I had wished it all away.

But I don't think I would do it any differently now, honestly. I had just hung up with one of the hospitals when Clint called. I almost immediately answered. "Hey, what did you find?" I answered. Marry dropped everything in the kitchen, speeding out to the table where I sat. "Well, I found her cell phone. That would explain why she isn't returning our calls," Clint replied.

"Okay, anything else?" I prompted.

"No sign of her anywhere near here. I'm gonna check her place again and then head back to you." I sighed as his end went dead, dropping my phone on the table. Mary waited patiently for the pass-down of what he'd said. I inhaled. "He found her cell phone there, so now we know why she can't be reached," I announced, recounting. "Nothing else yet. He's going to check her place again."

Marry nodded, a bit disappointed, and hurried back into the kitchen. I bounced Elizabeth lightly in my arms as I stood up from the table. I turned toward the couch just in time to see Chase come from Matt's room. He rubbed his eyes with a brief yawn, then glanced around. "Where are we?" he asked, puzzled. He looked straight at me. A smile suddenly spread across his face as his eyes settled on Elizabeth. "LIZZIE!"

He tore across the room to me and practically ripped her from my arms. "Chase!" I gasped, wide-eyed.

"You're not doing it right! Dani holds her like this," he announced, readjusting her in his arms. I sighed heavily and he headed over to sit in one of the chairs opposite the couch, on which Matt sat quietly. "Be careful with her," I told Chase. He nodded quickly. His eyes were practically glued to Elizabeth. I went to the kitchen counter and peered over it at the sink. "You don't have to do that, you know," I threw the words out there.

Mary looked focused, concentrated. Obviously she was trying not to think about Dani. She shrugged, tugging up a shoulder, glancing at me briefly. "It helps if I stay busy," she waved it away. Her eyes flitted over my shoulder a second before looking down at the dish in her hands. "Chase seems to have really taken to Elizabeth."

I twisted to see them, leaning into the counter a bit. "Yeah...I don't know how to tell him," I turned back to Mary. "Do I even try?" She opened her mouth to speak when a knock echoed out at the door. Mary seemed as surprised as I was. My eyebrows knitted together and I hurried to the door. "That was fast-" I pulled open the door and instantly shut up. A tall, dark haired, younger looking man stood outside the door in street clothes.

It wasn't Clint. "Hi there. I'm looking for Mary and Clint? Mary texted me, said they'd be here," he explained, somewhat timidly. "I'm Ben, Dani's brother."

"Oh...oh! Come in. Mary's in the kitchen." I quickly pulled open the door, ushering him in, and he stepped inside. I closed the door behind him and held out a hand. "Alison. I'm a friend of your sister's," I introduced, with a polite, mild smile. He shook my hands once and dropped it. It seemed a bit odd, but I tried to file it away as quickly as possible. I gestured for him to follow as I started into the living room, and he did. "Hey, Mary? Ben's here," I called, stopping by the couch.

Mary quickly came from the kitchen as Ben rounded the corner. She flushed with relief and lunged at him, snapping her arms around him so quickly I was sure she'd break his neck. "I'm so glad you're here," she said, on an exhale.

"I came as quick as I could," he hugged her back. Just then, the door opened and Clint walked in, shutting the door behind him. He walked straight to me and held out a cell phone. "This was at the warehouse," he informed. "It's definitely hers."

I nodded and took the phone. "Thanks. I'll look around in the contacts, see if-"

"Ben? What are you doing in town?" Clint suddenly was more interested in Ben, his eyebrows intensely pulled together. He stepped over to Mary and Ben and the three spoke in a kind of huddle. I took the opportunity to step over to Chase. I barely made it to the coffee table when the hairs at the nape of my neck stood upright. "Alison," Matt said, suddenly.

I stopped my trajectory and turned for the couch. "Yeah?"

"Her brother— _Ben_ —he was at the warehouse last night," his tone was hushed. My eyes rounded a bit as I dropped onto the cushion beside him. "What?" I gaped. "How do you know it was him?"

"His heartbeat- Alison, he was one of the ones shooting at _us_ ," he pressed, urgently. I twisted to look over my left shoulder and stood, stepping around the couch. Dread mixed with secondhand-betrayal and anger pooled in my stomach, forming a marsh of toxicity. "How _dare_ you," I narrowed my eyes a bit, my voice full of distain.

Ben and Clint turned around to see me, both with confused expressions. I took a step forward. I stared down Ben. "You're working with Fisk! And now you come here, playing the good brother? You helped try to kill your sister, you monster!" I spat, venomously. Ben walked toward me, stopping only a foot in front of my face. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, darkly, lowering his tone.

A metallic sound followed by a click came just before Clint said, "Step away from her, Ben. Now. Before I have to hurt you." Ben momentarily closed his eyes on a light sigh. Then, in a second, his arm wrapped around my shoulders and the other pulled out a gun. My back pressed against his chest and he aimed his gun at Clint. I gasped from the surprise of the move. Mary covered her mouth with her hand and quickly moved away, toward the kitchen.

Clint had a bow and arrow poised to shoot at Ben, two yards away. "I don't think so, cuz," Ben shook his head, adjusting his grip on the gun. My fingers gripped his forearm, trying to pull it away from me, but he wouldn't budge—he only held onto me tighter. "How could you do it? Betray one of us? We're your _family_ , Ben!" Clint looked furious. Frankly, so was I.

"It's a lot easier than it sounds," I could hear the smile in Ben's tone. "Drop the bow."

"You first- put down the gun, let Alison go and— _maybe_ —I'll let you leave here walking."

"Not gonna happen." My heart raced. Now I was a hostage in a hostage situation. Why do I keep ending up like this? "I'm gonna count to _three_ , and then I'm gonna shoot you," Clint warned, re-aiming. "One...two...th-" Suddenly Ben started convulsing and shaking, and the gun flopped from his hand, clattering to the floor. He dropped along with it. I quickly stepped back a bit as Ben continued to spasm on the floor. I looked up.

Chase stood where Ben once did, a sparking taser resting in his hands. His eyes looked feral and wild. He quickly darted at Ben and shoved the taser's prongs into Ben's side. Ben convulsed harder as the sparking sound increased. "Chase- Chase, stop! Stop." I grabbed his shoulders and forcefully pulled him back. I knelt, taking the taser from his hands, and wrapped my arms around him. He clung to me tightly, breathing quickly.

"You got quite the boy there, Fletcher," Clint commented. I saw him kick the gun away from Ben's reach over Chase's shoulder. I glanced over at the couch. Matt was sitting on the edge of the cushion ready to act, holding Elizabeth in his arms. He was looking in our general direction. "I'm okay," I said, for both Matt's and Chase's benefit.

I pulled back to see Chase. He looked shaken from the ordeal. "That was incredible, Chase," I smiled as brightly as I could, still frazzled a bit myself. "You're my hero." A small smile started to force its way onto his lips and he looked down at Ben. "Is he dead?" he asked.

"Not yet," Clint replied, searching Ben for more weapons. "He might be—when _I'm_ done with him."

"I don't understand...why would Ben do this?" Mary asked, to no one in particular. She looked incredibly saddened, like she was just one more strike away from a complete breakdown. I stood and Clint shook his head. "I don't know. The only person really close enough to him to tell us the answer to that question is missing," he said, standing as well. That brought my thoughts back to Dani.

And it gave me an idea. It was like on cartoons when a light bulb turns on above the character's head. "Hold on. What if this wasn't Ben's idea? What if it was _Fisk's_?" I hypothesized. All eyes were on me. "I mean, think about it. Ben's altercation here was probably _already part of the plan_ —I just sped it up by opening my mouth."

"He could be a distraction," Clint started seeing my point.

I nodded. "Exactly. And why would Fisk want to distract us—the only ones searching for Dani? They wouldn't want us finding her first, which means _they_ don't know where she is either."

"She got away," Matt realized, quietly.

"Okay. You two take the kids back to Dani's, see if she came back—I'll go check hospitals and widen the search area around the warehouse," Clint said, seriously. I nodded and Mary went to get her coat from the rack. Matt stood, wincing once he got all the way up, and stepped toward the end of the couch. "I'm going, too," he announced.

"No, you need to stay here," I insisted, holding up a hand.

"Alison, don't sideline me. I can help," he argued.

"Yeah, you can help by sitting there on that couch and healing," I pressed, stepping toward him. "You're in no shape to go and hoof it around the city. She might come back _here_ , too, okay?" He squared his jaw and sighed through his nose, but sat back down on the couch. Chase hopped up from his chair and carried Elizabeth to the door, where Mary was waiting. Clint gave me a solid nod and I zipped up my jacket, then hurried to the door with the others.

Mary took Elizabeth in her car and I took Chase in mine. I was driving behind her on the way to Dani's. Part of me wanted to believe she'd be there waiting for us and the rest of me just wanted to give it up already. Give up tricking myself into wanting her to be there, only to be let down every time she isn't. So I dialed Foggy's number on the way to get my mind off things. It went practically straight to voice mail. He was probably drinking himself into oblivion.

I wanted to go by his place, see if he was okay, but the more important thing was finding Dani. Until we find a body I'm gonna be looking. I pulled up along the sidewalk in front of Dani's building, behind Mary's car, and cut the engine. Chase reached for his door but I quickly pressed the lock button, and all the doors clicked. I twisted in my seat to see him. "What's going on?" he asked, confused.

"Honey...Dani-"

"Is the Angel of Hell's Kitchen," he finished, knowingly. I paused, raising an eyebrow. "It wasn't hard to put together. Matt said she was missing."

I inhaled. "Yes, and we're here to try and find her. If we don't, though, you'll be staying with Mary here, okay?"

"Okay. Where are _you_ staying?" he asked, deflated.

"I'll be at Matt's. He really needs a friend right now." He nodded in understanding and I unlocked the doors, turning back straight in my seat. I pushed open my door and slid out. Inwardly, I was eager to escape that conversation. I may have been 'new' to parenting ten years ago but I still have no clue what I'm doing. And telling your son his babysitter is a vigilante that's possibly dead is a little problematic. Once Chase was out, he shut his door, and I held my hand out.

His hand slid into mine and I smiled lightly at him. He smiled back and we started for the door. Mary was already there, just started to dig out her keys. Just then, I noticed a black SUV parked not much farther down the sidewalk from Mary's car. My grip tightened on Chase and I walked just a hint faster. The door to the car opened as we joined Mary at the door. I nearly burned right through my own skin at the sight of Steve—or James Wesley, as he's apparently much better known.

He started for us and Mary's head shot, just noticing the movement. "Who is that?" she asked, turning right to see me.

I inhaled through my nose. "A ghost," I looked at Chase a second. "Stay here, okay?" I dropped Chase's hand and hurried up the sidewalk toward James. The goal was to keep that demon as far away from my son as humanly possible. Even if this only bought me a few yards. I slid my hands on my pockets as I slowed to a stop, a few feet from him. "What do you think you're doing here?" I questioned, trying to stay calm.

"I came to pay my respects," he said, stopping as well. "That _is_ what you do after someone dies."

"How do I know _you're_ not the one who killed her?" I narrowed my eyes.

He exhaled. "I assure you, Alison, that I didn't touch your friend. That was all Fisk's doing." I let out a humorless laugh, looking away from him. He actually expected me to believe that? He really doesn't know me at all. He never did, because he never cared enough. I turned back to him and paused. His eyes had shifter to see over my left shoulder. _Chase_.

Something wistful flashed across his face and he looked back at me. "He's...grown up quite a bit," he commented, glancing over again. His whole demeanor seemed to shift. "I'll admit, I didn't expect it to last. But you've done a good job with him."

"Oh, you're complimenting my parenting job now?"

"I truly am sorry, for all of this, Alison-"

"I don't need your _sympathy_ ," I interrupted, in pure annoyance. "I _need_ you to stay away from me—and especially Chase." He readjusted his stance with a deep sigh, keeping his eyes strictly on me. "What have you told him about me?" he asked, ignoring my last words.

"Nothing. He thinks his father died in a car accident before he was born," I answered, crossing my arms. Inside I reveled in the look of disappointment on his face and the deflating of his shoulders. But if I were anyone else I'd actually feel sorry for him. He inhaled. "And you really think that's what's best for him?" he questioned.

"Yes, _I do_ ," I snapped. "And if you really want what's best for him, you'll walk away."

"Just let me talk to him," he persisted. I let my arms fall to my sides with a scoff of disbelief. He really thought I would say what I just did and still let him anywhere near Chase? He was incredibly naïve if he thought I'd say yes. I started shaking my head, but he spoke before I could. " _Please_ , Alison...I won't tell him who I am. I just need to talk to _my son_." A sudden pang of indecision hit me. This was a bad idea. Everything in me screamed to say no.

But there was something deep down that told me something different. I sighed, momentarily closing my eyes. As I opened them, I said, "Five minutes." He nodded once, in slight surprise, and made his way past me. I turned to watch him walk over. This would probably come back to bite me hard in the butt. Logically, there was no reason this could go south. But, just in case, I eyed the street a second. After about two minutes, I slowly made my way over to them.

I only heard the last bit of what Wesley was saying in a quiet jumble, followed by Chase's reply. "Fine, I guess. It's mostly B's and C's," he shrugged, probably talking about school. I stayed back just by a foot so that Chase wouldn't feel pressured and Wesley wouldn't get mad that I was hovering, but close enough to keep an ear on the conversation. "That's good," Wesley encouraged, kneeling to better be on Chase's level. "What's your favorite subject?"

"Um...Math, I think," Chase said, glancing at me briefly. I nodded a little—mentally telling him it was okay to be talking to him. Chase knows the whole _stranger danger_ song and dance—better than any other kid his age—so this is probably a bit odd for him. But he went with it easily. Suddenly Wesley seemed to notice the Captain America shield on Chase's pajama shirt.

He smiled. "You like superheroes, huh? I guess I don't have to ask which one is your favorite."

Chase looked down at his shirt, then back up, his eyes brightening. "Yeah. Captain America is the best. I mean, he fights with nothing but a shield and his bare hands. It's _awesome_. If I had to pick a second, I would probably choose Iron Man, because he's got a metal suit that shoots stuff out of his hands." Chase's enthusiastic way of talking heroes caused Wesley to chuckle a bit. I checked my cell phone clock. Time's up. I stepped over.

"Well, we should probably get you inside, hon. We don't want to keep Mary waiting," I interjected, putting my hands on Chase's shoulders. Wesley took the hint, standing begrudgingly. "You head in, okay? I'll just be a minute." Chase nodded and zipped up into Dani's building. I had the urge to do the same. "He's a lot like you," Wesley said.

"Let's hope he stays that way," I replied, with a solid nod. "You can go back to doing whatever a bad guy does during daylight hours." He opened his mouth to speak but I stopped him. "I don't want to hear it. I let you talk to him, now you leave us alone. No following me around, no keeping tabs on Chase at school—you're gone." With that, I turned and hurried into Dani's building.


	22. Untold Truths

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I barely slept at all. I never do when I'm not at home, but especially knowing that we still hadn't found Dani. We still had no other evidence than a good hypothesis and a cell phone. That wasn't much. It was seven AM when I finally decided to call it quits on trying to sleep. My whole body felt stiff, like I hadn't moved in ages, swinging my legs off the bed. But I heaved myself up and ambled into the living room. Matt looked to be in some kind of half-asleep, half-awake state on the couch.

I tried to back track as quietly as possible, tip toeing to the bathroom. Thankfully I'd stopped by my apartment before coming here last night and I picked up a change of clothes—a clean pair of dark jeans and an olive blouse. Button ups were more my speed. T-shirts felt too loose, too lazy. Jeans were fine. I could work with jeans. I instinctively locked the bathroom door once I was in, then started the hot water. I let it heat up a minute while I peeled off my grab-n-go clothes.

It's like the fabric had melded into my outer layer of skin. It made it a bit odd-feeling to pull them off but I managed it fine. As soon as possible, I stepped into the shower. I just stood there, let the hot water pinken my skin, roll down my spine. Then I let it soak through my hair to my scalp. It rolled over my face and for a moment I could blissfully close my eyes. But the moment was soon passed and I had to get going. Chase was still with Mary at Dani's building.

He had to go to school today—there was no way I was keeping him home from school another day, not for this. So I put on my clean clothes and towel dried my hair as best I could, then go to the living room. Matt was sitting up now, staring in the coffee table's general direction with a blank look on his face. He looked almost glossed over. I stopped to stand by the first chair. "Hey. How do you feel?" I asked, gently. It was kind of a stupid question, but I needed to know if he needed pain meds.

He readjusted his position a bit, inhaling. "Physically or emotionally?

"Physically," I loosely crossed my arms.

"I'm alright," he answered, tipping up his chin a bit. "How are you doing, with all of this?" I didn't know how to answer that. I know I should say that I'm doing okay, that I'm holding up, holding out hope. But, honestly, I feel like collapsing and never getting back up. I feel like crawling in a hole and forgetting I ever had any part in this. I shrugged a little. "Fine, I guess," I finally answered.

"Have you talked to Foggy?" he asked, a certain edge of hope to his voice.

I shook my head, sadly. "No. I'm going to check on him later, see if he's drunk himself dry yet." I started past to the kitchen/dining area and stopped at the table. I grabbed my phone off of it and dropped it in my purse before pulling the straps onto my shoulder. "I've got to take Chase to school, check on Foggy, and then I'll be back. Do you need anything while I'm out?" I asked, absentmindedly checking the fridge's contents.

"No, thank you, Alison," he answered, bleakly.

"Okay..." I stopped mid-room, trying to think if there was anything else I needed to say. "If you need me, just call, okay?" I saw him bob his head in a jerky nod and I exhaled. "...I'll see you when I get back." I then turned and hurried out the door. The drive was quiet, being by myself. I had no desire to listen to the radio and I never had any interest in Chase's CDs. So it was a short ride. I pulled up outside Dani's building and cut the engine.

I pulled on my jacket before sliding out, shutting my door behind me, and then hurrying up to the door. It was a bit chilly today—and it looked like it was about to rain—so I pushed through the door. I closed it with a sigh, shaking off my chill. And then it was up the five flights of stairs. Honestly, how big of a building did she need for a PI office?

Finally, I arrived on level five and pushed through the door to Dani's office. Mary said to just come in when we talked last night, so I hoped she wouldn't mind too much that I didn't knock."Chase, I-" I froze, barely through the door. The last person I expected to see, standing by the desk at the back of the room, was Dani. But that was exactly what I saw. My breath caught in my throat. She seemed to be in a conversation with Mary when I walked in. They both turned to see me.

Mary had wet cheeks. And Dani had a bandage on the side of her face. Her skin looked incredibly pale. She gave a weak smile. "Guess who's not dead?" she spread out her hands at her sides. "Surprise." The corners of my eyes burned. I couldn't help it. My chest cavity was filled with an unreadable emotion and I immediately rushed forward. I threw my arms around her neck and she made an _oof!_ sound. She might have said something else but I couldn't tell you what it was.

Tears just started bubbling out. I couldn't hold them back any longer. Before I knew it, I was pretty much sobbing—but in a good way. They were happy tears for the most part. Slowly, she hugged me back. " _Where have you been_? We've been looking everywhere for you," I sobbed, sniffling.

"Some friends picked me up," she answered. "They took me to a hospital...of sorts. I'm sorry I didn't call. I wanted to, but-"

"You didn't have your cell phone," I finished, taking a step back. She eyed me suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. I wiped at my under eyes as I elaborated, "Clint found it at the warehouse. He brought it back to Matt's and-" I paused myself, in a moment of realization. My eyes widened. "Matt! You have to come with me to Matt's."

"What? Why?"

I took in a breath. "Matt is the man in the mask. He thinks you're dead, Dani." She was quiet a long moment, her eyes somewhere to my right. It seemed to be clicking in her mind. Finally, she turned back to me. "How long have you known?" she asked, curiously.

"Since I was kidnapped by the Russians," I admitted. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Now everyone I cared about knew about each other. No more lying and going behind peoples' backs. But it was also weird saying it out loud in front of her. It felt wrong. "Take me," she nodded, firmly.

"Sweet! Road trip!" Chase suddenly appeared standing by Mary, not many feet away from the desk. I exhaled and turned to him. "You are going to school, mister. Come on. To the car," I gestured for the door and he groaned, starting in that direction.

I didn't want to let Dani out of my sight—I don't know how on earth she made it up the stairs—so I stayed relatively beside her to the door, and then down the many flights of stairs to the exit. Matt wouldn't believe this unless he saw it. Excuse the pun. He would be so much better knowing she survived. The sooner we got to his apartment, the better.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

" _You're an idiot if you think I'm letting you do this alone." I sighed, crossed my arms. "There are two things in this world I want right now. That's stopping Fisk, and you. After everything we've been through, I don't want your clouded judgment to be what ends this. For you."_

" _Just do me one thing." He tilted his head again. "Kiss me, slowly."_

 _A few seconds later, I felt the Mask's arms around me. He was crouched down next to me, pulling me up into his arms. He was soaked in blood. "Angel." I was staring right at him, yet he said my name like he wasn't sure if I was awake. I sighed heavily. "Still here," I said. He sighed with relief, breathing heavily._

" _You can't save me, Mask. But you can still save this city," I continued. "Please. Save yourself…and stop Fisk another day."_

 _I looked up at Fisk. "No," I heaved. "Because…when he's done with you…you'll be remembered as the devil who killed…the Angel of Hell's Kitchen."_

I opened my eyes and the memories stopped. That night has been playing on a constant loop since then. Alison let me into Matt's apartment. She said to call her and she'd return when I was ready, when we were ready. I stand twenty feet from the door, my shoulder leaning into the wall next to me. I've been standing here for twenty minutes. And if it weren't for the outrageous amount of pain killers in my system, that'd be impossible.

My eyes flicker up. He's still asleep on the couch. I decided not to wake him. I'm still unsure of what to say when he does wake. Do I instantly spill? Do I tell him everything? Do I start with 'hello'? 'Hi, I'm glad you're not dead, too'? What do you say to the man you told to leave you for dead? I told him to leave me. I can't imagine how he's been feeling. Probably blaming himself. But, had I not, he would've died. And there would've been no saving him.

He starts to stir and my mind goes blank. How will he react? Will he be mad I didn't come back sooner? Will he be mad I told him to go? I go completely motionless as I see him sit up. Even with his back to me I can already see the results of that night's beating. He stands painfully, wearing gray sweat pants and no shirt. I clench my teeth, seeing the full brunt of his injuries. We both got hit so hard.

He slowly walked to the end of the couch, stepping out of what could be qualified as his living room. I don't know where he was headed, but he froze. He knows I'm here. He struggles with an exhale as he turns to face me. He looks up at me, his eyes drifting off in a different direction. This is the first time I've really seen his face. I've always seen half of the Mask's face and Matt always wore glasses. I hold my breath as the reality that the two are one sinks in. "Dani?"

I smile at the sound of his voice as tears came to my eyes. I exhaled. "Mask," I let out a slight airy chuckle as a tear rolls down my cheek. He exhales, choking back tears. He slowly walks toward me. "I should've come back sooner. I shouldn't have told you to go, like that. I'm so sorry-" He wrapped his arms around me in a hug, tears rolling down his face, too. I couldn't help but wince at his touch. He instantly pulled back, probably cursing himself for forgetting I was hurt too.

"No," I said, shaking my head. I put my hand on his back and pulled him into me. "Squeeze harder." He resumed his hug, feeling a little looser. When he finally stepped back I resumed my position on the wall, still unsure about holding myself up. We stood in silence, unsure of what to say. He slightly lowered his head and tilted it. I sighed and then whipped a tear off his face with my left hand. "Don't do that."

He looked up at me. "Do what?"

"Examine all my injuries and then blame yourself for each one." He sighed, telling me he knew what I meant. He opened his mouth but the words didn't come. I grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on my chest, over my heart. He looked up at me questioningly. "We're alive. And, as much as we both blame ourselves for the way things played out…I'm glad it happened the way it did. Had I not lived…all I wanted was for you to get out of there alive."

"I know, I…" he sighed. "I never should've left you. Like you said, we're partners and I-"

"Only one of us was getting out of there." His frown told me he knew it was true.

"But…I dragged you into that, all I wanted was to kill Fisk. You were right. My judgment was clouded. I kept saying nothing would happen to us, ignoring that fact that I knew it could." He stopped and sighed heavily, his lip quivering. "You warned me that Nobu was after us, but I let my hunt for Fisk prevent me from stopping." I slowly nodded, digesting his words. "You…you knew that's what I was doing," he sounded shocked at his revelation. I nodded, hard enough to give a definite answer. "And you came-why did you come with me?"

"Because I…I knew Nobu was out there looking for us and I wasn't going to let you run into him, the way you were," I replied. "There has been something about you, since the first day we met as masked heroes. It hasn't let me go. And, when we first kissed, I knew what it was." I paused, running my hand through his hair. "There's a reason why people call me 'Angel', and it's because I don't give up. On anyone for any reason. Especially on those I care about. And I care about you _so_ much-" Tears started dropping out of my eyes. Matt sighed, trying to hold back his own tears. "-you'll never know how wonderful it felt knowing I was giving my life so you could have yours."

He started crying, unable to hold it back any longer. And I started crying at the sight of him crying. I'm a sympathetic crier. Always have been. I looked down at the ground, adjusted my stance. I flicked my head back up and tried to steady my voice. "And I wouldn't change it. Any of it. Dying for the man you love is a great privilege. I…" I stopped and sniffled. I swallowed hard trying to force away the tears. "I love you, Matthew. And I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner."

I studied his face, looking for a response to what I said. A few seconds went by and his expression didn't change. "And, I love you." I released the breath I didn't know I was holding. "Just do me one thing," he said. I looked at him questioningly, hanging on his words. "Kiss me, slowly."

I smiled, thinking back to that night when I spoke those words to him. My heart slightly fluttered at the smirk on his face. My hand slid down to the back of his head and pulled him to me. I stopped when our noses touched, leaving my lips just out of reach. I let our lips brush for a second before actually letting them lock. And when they did…I couldn't breathe. Every since that night, after he left, this-right here-he is all I've wanted. All I could do was want to find him, make sure he was okay. That I didn't stay behind just so he could die in an alley somewhere.

After a while, we pulled away and let our foreheads rest against each other. We stood in silence for a few seconds. "You're bleeding," he said. Oh, I know. I felt an all too familiar twinge when we kissed. I pulled just the right way and must have popped a stitch on the side of my face. Nobu's blade did a number on me. It'll leave a scar that'll be hard to explain to others. "I know," I said, pulling away. I reached up the left side of my face, my hand resting on the blood soaked cotton.

"Alison left her med bag." He took my hand and started walking. I pushed off the wall, determined to follow on my own. But after the first three steps, I knew I couldn't do it. "Uh…" I couldn't think of the words, but he knew what I was getting at. I could tell he didn't want to hurt me, or himself, but he wrapped his arm around my lower back. I put my left arm across his shoulders. We, ever so slowly, made our way to the couch. I painfully sat down, trying not to wince too much.

Matt suddenly had Alison's med bag and was digging through it. After a second, he abandoned the bag and turned to me. He reached up to the bandage on my face, stopping an inch from it. He looked at me questioningly. "May I?" he asked. I smiled, "Yeah." He continued on his course and removed the large gauze pad. It's reasons like this I'm glad he can't see. Nobu's blade shredded my face. I readied myself for his reaction as his hands made their way across my wound.

It started up in my hairline, making a C shape down to just beneath my earlobe. The center of the C came to my eyebrow. Near the top of it, two random lines shot out from it. One going down toward my ear and the other going up and slightly across my forehead. Then at the bottom, another line branched out and went down and around the side of my face. All of these lines are completely jagged. But she did a good job of stitching them back together. I guess Nobu's blade grabbed a piece of skin and just pulled on it, creating odd shapes and run off lines.

I felt his fingers gently run across the whole thing several times. Without a word he started in on re stitching the one that popped. It only took him a few minutes. We both stayed quiet. He brought a new gauze pad to my face and I held it while he got the tape. Once it was secure he started asking questions. "Who stitched this? All of it?" He sounded…not depressed, more like tired. Tired of all the pain this whole thing has caused.

I sighed and bowed my head. "Well…" I looked up at him and then settled into a more comfortable position. "I remember," he said, "you telling me you weren't ready to tell me who you were. You said you didn't want it to turn out like last time. That was the only time I heard fear in your voice." His head sat tilted, facing me as his eyes drifted to the left. I could tell now that he was genuinely curious. I felt like my life was crashing in on itself, becoming aware of just how close we were sitting. "What happened?"

I sighed heavily. "As you know, I've spent the last ten years off and on as Angel," I started. He nodded, intrigued already. "Well…the years that I wasn't her, I was working for a secret government organization. One where Angel was who I was, she was me all the time. Saving people's lives was what Angel did. But, with these guys, there was no need for Angel because that's what Dani did. I let Dani be the hero and have regretted it ever since." I paused and searched his face. He nodded, telling me he was understanding.

"They called themselves the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division." I shrugged. "Or S.H.I.E.L.D. They were founded to combat technologically advanced threats on our world, to protect the planet from things no one else could. I had been working there a few years, along with Clint, when the battle of New York happened. My boss, Fury, put together a team of heroes he called Avengers. Clint was one of them, but for some reason he side lined me. I should've been on that team. I should've been down there fighting with them."

"Where were you?"

"On the Helicarrier, where Fury 'needed me'," I mocked. I sighed in frustration and then continued. "My brother, Andrew, died that day. I was too late. I realized that he was in the city and I disobeyed orders, left the ship…but it wasn't enough. He and a couple hundred people had a building fall on them. I can't help but think that…had I been a part of it, the battle never would have lasted that long. That somehow he wouldn't have died." I forced back the tears that were threatening to take over. I glanced around the room and then looked back at Matt.

"That night I felt utterly weak," I said. "I _hate_ that feeling. I wanted to feel stronger than that, so that something like that would never happen again. I wanted to feel powerful. I decided I was done taking orders. I lost a brother, Mary lost a husband, and Elizabeth lost a father. I spent many hours chewing out Fury, Clint and Cap backing me up the whole way. But he stuck by his decision. His idea of making it right was giving me some 'compensation' money. And that's when I finally realized where he stood. Not only did I take the money but I took more until I felt he'd paid enough. I stole _two_ of his satellites, blocking him out so he can never access them. And then I quit. Apparently, when everyone saw be being drug out of there kicking and screaming, it changed a lot of people's minds."

"Clint says over a hundred people left after I did. Serves him right," I scoffed. "But after all of that, I vowed that I would never let Angel and Dani cross. I wanted Dani to go back to being normal and Angel being the one saving people. That's how it's been since then. I wanted to forget S.H.I.E.L.D. and everything they taught me, the whole life I'd created there. So I did. Then, after meeting you I realized just how out of practice I was."

"How did you get away from Fisk?" he asked. I paused, unsure how to answer. "I didn't," I confessed. His features visibly dropped. "I thought I was going to die. After you left," I sighed, unsure I should tell him. I closed my eyes and went for it. "After you left, he beat me until he was satisfied. And then he shot me. Twice." The look on his face nearly killed me. "They left me there to die, planning on coming back later. They wanted to spin it on you, like you'd killed me."

"Of course they did," he scoffed, disgusted with Fisk. His tone of voice masked how he was really feeling. I glanced down at his hand. It was curled into a fist, his knuckles turning white. I put my left hand on his fist and felt him relax slightly.

"I had eventually passed out and then woke up in what appeared to be a hospital," I said. Matt looked just as confused as I had felt. "But it turned out to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. A while ago, one of their agents showed up on my door step. I had assumed Fury sent him so I told him to leave. Turns out it was my friend, who I thought was dead, who had sent him. He's now got his own team and was looking to recruit me. They'd been watching me, waiting for the right moment to try again. So when Fisk and his goonies left, he stepped in. I would've called but I lost my phone, and I didn't even wake up til last night."

"Yeah, Clint found your phone at the ware house," he said. I sighed. He must be worried sick. I didn't even think about Clint. I always told Mary to call him if something happened to me. "When he showed up with Mary I knew he wasn't just the cousin."

I nodded. "He was at S.H.I.E.L.D. longer than I was. He's the one who asked me to join…thought it'd help me forget my past."

"Did it?"

"For a while. But eventually it came back…it always does."

"Are you talking about your father?"

"Yeah," I sighed heavily. I looked down as he intertwined his fingers with mine. I looked back up and into his eyes. "I have another secret, one you might not like." He raised his head slightly and cocked, ready for my words. "I've killed people." I let my words hang there a second before continuing. "Sometimes it was self defense…but most of the time it was the mission. And I got really good at it. It became second nature for me." I looked away knowing he's probably disapproving. "What I told you on the phone was true. Killing someone, taking a life, changes you. And usually it for the worst. So when Fisk became a problem, my first instinct was to kill him. But…you're wantonness to put him on trial and do things by the law-" I looked up at him. "-that made me want to change, that there was another way to stop the bad guy."

"I admire your moral compass so much…I can only dream of thinking like that," I said. "So I didn't kill Fisk…though I've had the chance more than once. I've been telling myself I'm not a killer anymore. But, with Nobu…I was going to kill him, put an arrow between his eyes."

"What stopped you," he asked sincerely.

I shrugged. "I hesitated and lost my chance. But he died anyway, so. I just thought you should know what you're dealing with with me as a partner. If…that is what you still want."

"Of course it is," he practically cut me off. He put his left hand on my left cheek. "My feelings for you have been changing since the day I met you. And, through all of this…it's only made me want you more."

"I told you I'd fight with you and see this through. And I still intend to do that…no matter what. Even if we have to go through this again, Fisk needs to pay. I need to call Wesley and tell him I'm alive."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? He was there when this happened."

"I know. But I think he was just trying to keep his place by Fisk's side. He can still take down Fisk without us it'll just take a lot longer."

"Well, there's something else you should know."

"What?" I asked.

"Your brother-"

"I know," I cut him off. "He was at the ware house. He was there."

"Clint said you'd know why he betrayed you."

"Wait. Clint knows? What happened while I was gone?"

"Your brother, Ben, came here, acted like he wanted to help. I recognized him from the ware house," he replied. I sighed in frustration. I'd almost forgotten that he'd betrayed me. Of course I had a lot more pressing matters to attend to. Like telling everyone I'm alive. "Where is he now?" I asked.

"Clint took him somewhere."

"Oh…good. The boys getting what he deserves, I guess."

"Sounds like it," he said. We resumed our silence, both looking in opposite directions. "Okay, I have to ask," I said. "Why didn't you know it was me? It's obvious why I never thought it could be you." We both chuckled. "But why me?"

"I thought it could've been you back in the beginning. A new hero shows up the night before Foggy's mysterious friend comes to the law firm? I had my suspicions." He shook his head. "But the next time we met I _knew_ you couldn't be the same person."

"Why not? I never masked my voice."

"That I did know. But sometimes peoples' voices can sound the same, so I never go off of that alone. Besides the fact that Angel seemed more confident-"

"Thanks," I mock scoffed. He smiled and continued, "You two also smelled different. Like, a lot."

"Smelled different?" I thought for a second. Why on earth…? "Enlighten me." He smiled.

"Yeah, Dani always smelled like a fresh shower, soap. Angel smelled like new leather and musk and…"

"Mothballs," I finished. He nodded. "There were mothballs in the room where I keep my gear when I moved in. I through them out but the smell never left the room. That's funny. Especially since I hate that smell."

"But you wanna know what really gave it away?" he asked. I quickly nodded. "Your heartbeat."

"My heartbeat? What was different?"

"Everything. Dani's heart sounded normal, easy to read. But Angel…it sounded stronger and always stayed at a steady pace during fights. She had more control. And no matter what, I could never tell when Angel was lying."

"Oh…" I sighed. "That would be the S.H.I.E.L.D. training." I nodded to myself. "So tell me, Matt…how many times did Dani lie?"

He smiled, almost embarrassed. "Not enough." I smiled. "So law enforcement?" I laughed until it hurt, which didn't take long.

"You liked that, huh?" I knew exactly what he was referring too.

"And you've only seen him in uniform." Now he was just teasing.

"Okay, okay. I…Foggy put me on the spot," I laughed knowing how stupid it sounded. "Not the best lie I've told but it worked. Like I always say: the best lies are mostly true. But I do have to admit, I stayed guarded when the Mask was around. I didn't want you knowing I was Dani yet."

"And it worked," he nodded. "The only give away would've been had I kissed Dani."

"Oh, you think that's the only thing that'd be the same?" I teased. "I'm right here, tough guy." I grabbed his sweat shirt and he didn't refuse to lean into me. He kissed me, drawing it out. I pulled back slightly. "And?"

"You're right," he said. "Angel's a much better kisser." We both chuckled.

"If you weren't already hurt I'd smack you."

"Still can."

"Don't tempt me, Murdock."

"And don't ever tell me to leave you again, Angel."

"Deal." I pulled away from his face. I thought for a second. I have one last secret. Should I tell him? I've already told him so much. "What is it?" he asked. "Tell me, Dani."

"Well, that's just it," I spoke low, almost with a disappointed tone of voice. "My name's not Dani." His face lost all expression, turning almost serious. "This is the last thing I feel I need to tell you. Danielle Dylan is, one of the many, names I've had over the years. I started using it a month before I met Foggy. After hearing him say it so much it grew on me. Andrew and Clint never cared for it. That's why it's so easy for me to refer to Dani as a different person. She's the agent of S.H.I.E.L.D." I sighed. "The real me…" I paused, feeling more vulnerable than I have in a long time. "The real me is still very broken."

"It's okay to be broken."

"That's what my mom used to say. She'd say, 'It's okay to be broken, because one day someone is going to hold you so tight he'll put all your broken pieces back together'. I didn't believe her…until I met you." I glanced around the room before looking back at him. "Man," I sighed, "I haven't said my real name in years." I faked a chuckle, prolonging the inevitable.

He put his hand on the side of my face. "Your secret's safe with me." I closed my eyes, believing every word.

"My real name is Elizabeth Barton," I said. "It's the one I was born with and have run from ever since. All because of my father."

"So, your niece…?"

"She was named after me. Andy claimed it was a secret promise. That she'd grow up the exact opposite of how we did, that she was a fresh start, a sign that something good could come out of something so terrible. He called her his new beginning. He fed me all that after I called his bluff that he named her after me because I was a good sister." I paused, catching a few glimpses of my childhood. "Doesn't seem like much of a new beginning since Andy's gone."

"Sounds like he was a good man."

"Yeah, he was. He was always the hero."

"Is that why Clint called you 'El' back at your place?"

"Yeah. He claims it's short for Danielle, but I can see right through that," I sighed. "He thinks I never should've changed it."

"He seems like a good man, too."

"I take it he knows you're the Mask?" I asked and he nodded. "Yeah, he's like a brother to me."

"After he arrived he took over the search for you. He and Alison didn't want to give up, no matter what they found."

"How'd you know you could trust him? Did you just take Mary's word for it?"

"Heartbeat," he said. "His sounded like Angel's." I nodded, processing. He sighed. "But don't listen to him. Both names are beautiful. Just like you." He draped his arm across my shoulders and I nestled into his side. We leaned back, into the couch. My body didn't feel very comfortable, but my heart did. I draped my left arm across his stomach while still sheltering my right shoulder. I found a position that worked and stuck with it. He didn't seem to mind me fidgeting but I think he was glad when I picked a spot. "Who else knows you're alive?"

I was a little startled by the question but didn't hesitate to answer. "Just Mary and Alison," I replied. "Why?" I moved so I could look at his face. "Got somewhere to be?" He gave a cheesy grin.

"Only here with you."

"Good." I settled back down. "I think I'll stay dead a little longer…this is actually kind of nice." He laughed. I sighed with pleasure. "It is good to know someone would miss me if I died." I froze, not meaning to say that. But it's true. No one wants to die knowing that they won't be missed.

"Me, too." I inwardly sighed at his words, completely relieved I didn't get some kind of lecture. He kissed the top of my head before whispering, "I love you, Elizabeth." I smiled and closed my eyes. It's not like I haven't heard him say that name before, especially when referring to my niece. But there was something about this time that he said it. I think it's because…for the first time, I knew it was mine. And so was he.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

After dropping Dani at Matt's and Chase at school, I needed to find something to do to keep me away from the apartment. Dani and Matt would probably need some space for the time being. Checking up on Foggy was the only thing on my list left to do. So, a bit begrudgingly, I headed for his apartment. I didn't really have a plan for what to do once I got there.

Knock on the door, make sure he's still breathing, and then go home. Hopefully he was off his 'I hate everyone' kick. Otherwise I would just leave without saying anything. That would be the smart thing to do. Unfortunately, I arrived too soon to formulate a script in my head. I parked my car by the road and forced my feet to carry me into the building. Of course I wanted to smooth things over with him. But how?

I kept this huge secret from him for quite a long time. He was so angry when he stormed out of Matt's—I doubt he would be easy to forgive me after that. Pushing all doubting thoughts aside, I inhaled and knocked three times on the wood of his apartment door. I'd been there before so it wasn't hard to find my way here. I stepped back to wait. There were no sounds coming from the inside to give me a heads up as to what was going on.

Odds are, he was passed out on the couch surrounded by liquor bottles. He still didn't know Dani was alive. Maybe that information would make him a little less hostile? I was preparing to use my key when suddenly the chain lock clicked on the other side of the door and it pulled open, revealing an unfamiliar blonde woman in formal clothes. Her white button up was obviously three sizes too small and her gray pencil skirt could've used a bigger size as well.

She stopped instantly upon seeing me. "Oh…hello. I was just heading out," she smiled, the kind that makes you want to slap her, leaning into the door frame. She twisted to see back into the apartment, over her shoulder. "Put your pants on, Foggy Bear, you've got a visitor." She turned back to me with her debutant smile and slipped past me into the hallway. For a moment, I was frozen. There was a long pause of feeling nothing.

And then it all came to me in a sharp pain in my chest. That was Marci, his lawyer ex-girlfriend; at his apartment early in the morning, telling him to put his pants on. _Hm, I wonder what I could make of this_. She'd left the door cracked, so I gave it a light shove and it swung open just enough for me to walk into the room. The living room was only slightly more messy than usual. I stopped mid-room, near the couch, just as Foggy emerged from the bedroom.

He stopped as soon as he saw it was me. He looked like death warmed over—bags under his eyes, pale skin, and frazzled hair. He'd barely gotten his t-shirt over his head when he came out. A dull ache wouldn't let me forget how I felt about this scenario, thumping a beat in the back of my head. "What are you doing here?" he finally asked, his voice groggy and rasped.

I didn't know what to do, how to act—so I just let my fingers fiddle with the back of the couch. "I came to see if you were okay, but—by the look of it—you're just fine," I answered, evenly. "Not that you deserve to know, but Dani's alive. Apparently she just showed up at her building this morning."

He was quiet a minute. "She…Dani's _alive_? How?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, one-shouldered. Everything in me wanted to be angry, wanted to be sad—wanted to _feel_ something. I just couldn't make myself. All I could muster was an ebb of disappointment. Silence settled in for a brief moment. Then he said, "Alison, I…this was…" He sighed heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Honestly, Foggy…I don't care. I really don't," I shook my head. "You can call her back and sleep with her again if you wanted to, because you won't be busy with me." I turned on my heel and took three steps to the door. That was all it took for him to say something else. "Alison, please- wait," he pleaded. But I stopped and turned back to him. He almost looked regretful, maybe a little disappointed in himself. I didn't care.

I couldn't—because if I did I would start crying. My throat was starting to grow a lump, making it hard to swallow or even breathe. But I made myself do it. _Inhale and exhale_. "We're done," I said, trying to force my voice to stop shaking. "This? This is it, where it's done and there's no fixing it. I came here because I was worried about you and you…you were busy sleeping with your ex."

He looked deflated, his shoulders dropping. For a split second I debated turning and running. Or just changing my mind all together and saying we can still be an _us_. But I didn't. I stood firmly and continued. "You get angry and yell at me, make me feel like dirt when—news flash— _I_ lost a friend, too," now I was starting to get a little angry, but I tamped it down. "And then you cheat on me when I continued to love you and care about you. You really let me down, Foggy."

"I'm sorry-" he opened his mouth to continue.

I shook my head. "You don't get to be sorry. Goodbye, Foggy. Stay away from me." Then I finally made my escape through the door and into the hallway. I had the almost undeniable urge to start crying as I walked to the elevator. But I didn't. I swallowed it down and kept walking, step-by-step. A hollow feeling of finality hit me. _It was over_.


	23. Party Hardy

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I removed the bandage from my face and threw it away. I think I'll let it air out for a while. I sighed and exited the bathroom. I honestly don't know how to explain the soon to be scar on my face. It's kind of hard to miss. I sat on the edge of the bed and downed a few more pain killers. I didn't realize how old I was until this happened. I used to be able to bounce back a lot faster than this. And I'm not even that old.

I stood and walked the few feet to my shoes. I used the wall as a brace as I sat on the floor, then began the task of putting on my shoes. I need to find out what Clint did with my brother, and more importantly, tell Clint I'm alive. I also need to check on Mary and Lizzie. I have a big day ahead of me. Maybe I can get Clint to come to me. I tied one shoe, then slid it away from me. I slowly bent my knee, pulling up the other leg and then went to work tying that one.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Matt sit up in the bed. He stiffly turned toward me, swinging his legs off the bed. I finished with my shoe and then leaned back against the wall and sighed. He seemed slightly started, forgetting I was here. "You need to work on that," I said. He smiled and stood, walking toward me. He leaned into the door frame next to me and offered me his left hand.

I smiled, taking it. I gingerly worked my way back up to my feet. "Thank you," I slipped my hand out of his. I leaned into the wall as his hand found its way to my hip. He centered himself in front of me, putting his left hand on the side of my face. His thumb brushed against my lips. He put his head in closer, our noses bumping. Lips seconds away from locking…and then someone knocks on the front door.

I close my eyes and sigh as he chuckles. "So close," he teased, pulling away. I laughed and then quickly pecked him on the cheek before leaving the bedroom. I make my way to the door as fast as I can move. I glanced back and saw Matt smiling as he covered up with a zip up sweat shirt. I get to the door as there's another knock. "I'm coming," I said as I unlocked the door and swung it open. I recognized the young petite girl in front of me and sighed.

"Good morning, Agent Dylan," she said it way too perky for this hour. It's only, like, seven. But I do love the accent. "I'm not…interrupting anything, am I?"

"No," I sighed again. I saw her drop in expression and then changed my tone. "Agent Simon, was it?"

"Simmons, actually," she corrected. I nodded and then stepped to the side, motioning for her to come in. "Thank you." I closed the door and walked passed her out into the living room.

"So what brings you here, Agent Simmons?" I asked as Matt joined us. She looked at him and cringed. I do the same thing when I look at either one of us. "Or, a better question…how did you find me?"

"Your sister in law. I went to your place first and she said I'd find you here."

"You tell her who you were?"

"Yes…?" she looked puzzled. "I'm sorry," she chuckled, trying to brush it off, "to intrude like this on your personal life, but-" she paused and looked at Matt, then back to me.

"You can say whatever you want in front of him," I said. "Did Coulson send you?"

She quickly nodded. "Yes. When we discovered you were no longer on the Bus, he was concerned you might have injured yourself on your journey home."

"I'm fine, considering everything." I saw the way she kept looking at Matt and knew what she was thinking. She's not stupid. Very far from it. I sighed, turning to Matt. "This is Agent Simmons from S.H.I.E.L.D. Coulson is an old friend I used to work with. And she's a member of his new team. They're the ones who saved me." He nodded, processing everything. I then turned to Simmons. "You can't tell Coulson I was here, tell him you found me at my place and I was alone. But most importantly, omit him from the equation." I jutted my thumb at Matt.

"Is that an order?" she asked. I paused, puzzled. "You are a level eight, you're my superior. That could be qualified as an order."

"I don't work for S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore. But if that's what you need to tell yourself, then yeah, it's an order." I sighed, but she seemed satisfied. She doesn't really seem like the lying type, so whatever can get the job done. I don't want Coulson knowing Matt's the Mask. Not that I don't trust him with that knowledge…I'd just prefer if it stayed a secret. "Was that all?" I asked, breaking the silence. I could slightly see Matt tense at the mention of keeping him out of this. He knows I've been living on the edge, so I can only imagine what's going on in his head.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to take a look at your wounds before I go," she said it cautiously.

"Yeah, okay," I nodded. She took her time looking over each one. I don't know this chick but she seems nice enough. And if Coulson trusts her then that's good enough for me. She rebandaged a few things, changing out gauze pads and stuff. Matt lingered, not going too far. He mostly stayed in the same room, while trying to make it look like he wasn't standing guard. But I could tell it was making her nervous. She kept looking at him and then back to what she was doing and then back again. I was smiling on the inside.

"There you go." She stood and then closed up her small bag, about the size of a purse. She kept her perky voice but I could hear a hint of unsettledness. "I would suggest getting those checked regularly. Although I'm sure you know the drill. Being who you are, I'm sure you already have someone."

"Uh…" I glanced at Matt. "Yeah…something like that." I knew Alison was probably dying to get her hands on my wounds, see for herself that everything's okay. "Just…tell Coulson not to send anyone else. I appreciate everything he's done, but I'm done with S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Clearly. You're just out saving the world from a different angle," she slightly chuckled and rolled her eyes, acting like it was common knowledge. "I'll tell him, but he won't listen to me."

"I know," I sighed and stood. I walked with her to the door. "Thank you, for everything."

"Oh, it was my pleasure. You're just as much a legend as the Calvary," she said stepping out the door. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." I sighed. We said our goodbyes and then she was gone. Finally. I walked back out into the living room. "That…was unexpected. Sorry, about her showing up here. I need to talk to Mary about new boundaries."

"It's okay," he shrugged. "She know who I am?"

"Probably. But she won't tell. And, even if she did, Coulson's not going to do anything about it, he won't care." I picked up my phone off the coffee table. "I need to go meet up with Clint, I'll be back in a couple hours." He opened his mouth to protest so I quickly started talking. "I'll be at my place and I won't walk, I'll take a cab. Clint will meet me there. It'll be fine." He closed his mouth but I could tell he didn't like it. I exhaled, knowing that he didn't want me to leave. And, frankly, I didn't want to either. "Or I could have him come here."

Matt seemed to like that idea a lot better. I mean, who could blame him? He just got me back after thinking I was dead for, like, three days. Of course he won't want me to go. And, of course, Clint was fine with it. I was hoping to see my brother and get some answers, but that can wait. It didn't take long for Clint to arrive. "Oh, Matt." He stopped, on his way to open the door and turned my way. "Whatever you do, don't mention Coulson."

"Why?" he asked.

"It's a…very long story. I'll tell you later." He nodded and then continued to the door. I hung back on the living room. A few seconds later Clint was walking into the living room. I think he nearly cried when he saw me. He practically ran up to me, wrapping his arms around me. It hurt but I let him continue, returning the hug. "Hey."

"What in the world happened?" he asked pulling back. "Where have you been?"

"Some old S.H.I.E.L.D. friends picked me up. But the details don't matter, right now," I tried to quickly move on. "What did you do with Ben?" We sat down on the couch as Matt sat across from us in a chair.

"He's at the nearest S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. And he's not talking, big shocker. He just keeps asking to speak to you."

"So he knows I'm alive," I sighed.

"So does Fisk," Matt agreed.

"Maybe this is a good thing. Fisk just kicked a hornet's nest, and he knows it. That man will pay for everything he's done, I'll make sure of it."

"What about Ben?" Clint asked. I thought for a second. I have an idea, but it's risky. "Okay," I sighed. "Here's the plan. I want you to let him go. Legally you can't hold him, even with S.H.I.E.L.D. We need to arrest him the right way." I glanced at Matt and he nodded. "But…we need to make it look like I'm dead, let them find a body dressed like me. Right now, they're just assuming I'm alive."

"Fisk will just use it to further his career, and against your boyfriend."

"Yeah, but it will give him false hope. He'll then put things into motion expecting a very distraught Mask to show up. He'll plan on an easy victory, let his guard down."

"And that just might work," Matt said, before looking at Clint. "If you can act convincing enough for Ben, Fisk might just believe she's actually dead."

"And, technically, you don't even need a body," I said, "just photo proof and your performance." Clint nodded, slowly digesting the plan. I could tell he wasn't too sure about it. "Dude, I'll be fine. It's Angel who the world will think is dead."

"And, able to be drug through the dirt. Who knows what Fisk will make up," Clint protested.

"Please. My reputation is the least of my worries, you know that. And most of the city's not even sure what to think of the Mask, so there's not really much he can do there either." After what felt like forever, and Matt agreeing with me, Clint nodded and agreed to the plan. I'm glad Clint and Matt seem to be getting along. I don't know what I'd do if they didn't. "So, you set things into motion and then head home."

"You two want to take on Fisk alone?" he sounded skeptical, glancing between us as he stood. Matt shrugged and said, "Why not?" I knew he was joking but Clint seemed mildly baffled.

I chuckled. "Yeah, we'll be fine. We'll make sure we face him on our terms, this time. Just play your part and GO HOME. You left S.H.I.E.L.D. for a reason. Three of them, to be exact."

"Really? Because Laura practically threw me out the front door when Mary called."

"Yeah, yeah." I turned him around and pushed him toward the door. "Text me, okay?" He nodded and I closed the door. I could tell there was a lot he wanted to say but didn't because Matt was here. Things like the possibility of us, or me, actually dying this time. But even if I really had been killed I had everything in order. No one would've had to do anything. It's depressing, I know. But it's a trick I picked up from my mother. I turned around and pressed my back into the door. Matt stood at the end of the hallway.

He looked like he was expecting something. I'm not sure what. Does he want me to say something? Do something? We starred at each other a minute before I broke. "What?" I smiled and walked past him, into the kitchen. I heard him sigh as I pulled a glass out of the cupboard. I poured a glass of water and then turned around. He was now at the entrance to the kitchen, his hands in his pockets. I studied his expression as I took a drink.

He looked about how I felt. Emotionally and physically whipped out. Like you almost can't go on. The last few days have been more emotionally draining for him than I'm sure he's used to. I nodded and sat the glass down. "Yeah," I said. "I know exactly what you mean." He offered a weak smile. "Come on." I walked up to him and grabbed his arm. "We need to rest and recover. We can't stop Fisk unless we do that."

He turned his head toward me. "Are you sure you still want to be a part of this?" I stared at him blankly, his question taking me off guard.

"I told you I was with you until the end," I said. "And we didn't die…so this isn't the end. I've been through a lot, Matt. To me, what we went through was nothing. Yes, it was terrifying and painful. And it might even haunt me for a while. But despite all of that, it's just one more thing that I can look back on and say 'I lived'. One more thing that has made me stronger."

He brought his hand up to the left side of my face and carefully traced my stitches. "But was it worth it?" he asked. Why is he asking me this? He was there too. I closed my eyes and thought. He wants me to reassure him of why he's doing this. He NEEDS someone to tell him everything's going to be okay. That something good can _really_ come from all this bad. That there _is_ an end to the madness. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

Sometimes I forget that he's new to this. I've been doing this for what seems like forever. And everyone I've ever worked with has had the same amount of experience I have. Until now. He's a two year old trying to be an adult. He's a rookie who is going to make mistakes. "'The most important part is not in the mistake, but in learning from it'. Yeah, it's worth it. With each fight you're becoming the hero this city needs." I let that sink in and then switched tones. "But you need to go a little easy on the stunts. You're becoming quite the daredevil, and most of the time it's on someone's face."

He laughed. "Come on." He nodded back toward the bedroom. I went quietly, ready to lie down again. We both need to sleep for, like, thirty hours. I think that's qualified as a coma…yeah, that sounds about right. I could really go for a light coma right about now.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

"There are those that question why a man such as myself, a man who treasures his privacy, would willingly subject himself to the public eye." I nearly rolled my eyes at Fisk's words while I made my way through the crowd. I was late. Again. Thankfully I had enough time and money to at least dress for the occasion. I was only supposed to be at this stupid Fundraiser for the Bulletin. _Write the story_ , Ellison said. _It'll give you a chance to get out_ , he said.

I found a nice spot just by the front rim of the crowd of adoring subjects, next to a couple other reporters. Just in time to comprehend the rest of Fisk's pathetic opening speech. "I question the man who _wouldn't_ step forward," he bellowed into the microphone. "When his city—his heart—is in such a time of need. With your help…we can ensure that everyone…that was affected by the recent attacks," I rolled my eyes again. I couldn't really help myself. "And all who call Hell's Kitchen their home will see a brighter day."

Wow. People actually believe this trash? It always appalled me how easy it was to fool a mass. "I thank you, and please enjoy your evening," he finally finished. The crowd instantly began clapping and I forced myself to participate, putting on a bright smile. I watched him as he shared a brief kiss with his girlfriend thing and then started for the crowd. He began the long train of shaking investors' hands. Okay Alison. Time to act like you care about all of this.

I pulled my paper and pen from my clutch and lightly elbowed my way toward Fisk. He'd just stopped near his accountant, Owlsley, when I walked up to the small group. "I haven't seen a room with so many deep pockets since the junk bomb days," Owlsley commented, before eating something.

I inhaled and plastered on a smile, a foot away now. "Excuse me? Excuse me, Mr. Fisk?" He looked around upon hearing his name, and he turned slightly as he noticed me. So did Wesley. His jaw tightened just barely noticeably—obviously refraining from saying anything—and Fisk smiled at me. "Hello," he greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"My name is Alison Fletcher, I'm with the New York Bulletin. I was wondering if I could ask you some quick questions?" I asked, making a show of a hopeful expression.

"Fletcher…yes, I know who you are," Fisk nodded once.

"Yeah, she wrote that poor-excuse-for-an-article on that vigilante," Owlsley commented, trying to wave me away. It was a jab. But I ignored it, squaring my shoulders, turning to Fisk. "Actually I found it quite informative," Fisk argued, evenly. "It was a sharp piece of writing."

I smiled—wanting to puke. "Thank you. I was wondering if you could tell me a bit about yourself?" I started, curiously. "You're the one person spear-heading the relief effort for the city but no one really knows _you_ —you know, _off_ camera."

"I can tell you right now, with one-hundred percent certainty, that Wilson Fisk is the kindest man you will ever meet," his girlfriend—I think it was Vanessa something—gushed, placing a hand above his jacket pocket. I brought my pen to the paper and acted like I was actually interested in what she was saying. Nodding along and smiling. "He is genuinely driven to help this city and…repair the damage that has been done. It's a part of him. Truly, he is the most wonderful man I have ever met."

"Vanessa, please. I don't think the lady would like to write that in her article," Fisk commented. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes in public and, instead, glanced at Wesley beside Fisk. He looked displeased. But I detected something else. He was watching Fisk intently, scanning him for something. I shook it off and sucked in a breath. "I grew up in a very poor household," Fisk explained. "I was an only child. My mother was always my best friend. Someone I could…look up to, seek for guidance."

"It must've been hard for you, losing both parents," I assumed aloud.

"Yes, it was. But this city…these people…they took me in and made me family. That's why I fight so hard to save it, make it a better place."

Mm hm. Right. "I see…" I scribbled a bit, then looked back up. "I think everyone in the city knows you are against the man in the mask, given your many public statements. But how do you feel about the Angel of Hell's Kitchen? Do you agree with the good things she's done for the city?" He paused, thinking a moment. Wesley shot me a dark look, suddenly angered. Of course he'd be mad. I'm finally asking about things that matter.

I kept my chin up, daring him to actually say something, but he kept quiet. It only took another moment for Fisk to respond. "I understand…she has saved a few lives here and there…but if we want to really keep our streets safe," _here we go_. "We need men and women in uniform doing their jobs—not masked vigilantes thinking they're heroes."

Vanessa had been quiet for a while, but suddenly she seemed to want to talk. She looked to me and quickly stepped in. "You mentioned in your article that she rescued a woman who was kidnapped by the Russians," she started. "I think that is very admirable. But we do need to obey the laws. We have police here in the city for a reason."

I nodded slowly, 'taking it in'. "And what would you say to her, if she were here right now?"

"I would say thank you for helping people, but you shouldn't be risking your life," Vanessa replied, before Fisk could even think of it. She was very sophisticated in how she put it. But I knew it was code for _we don't want you_. Got it. I decided I would hit them with a low ball, see how they'd react.

"Elena Cardenas was murdered in her apartment—an apartment building you own. You said in your TV interview that you knew about the criminal element to the building," I led it up to the top, and then dropped the bomb. "So why didn't you do something to get rid of the criminals and let the tenants stay in their homes? Why not try to protect those living in your building?"

"We offered a settlement to help them relocate-" Fisk started.

I inhaled. "Yes, but why didn't you stop the criminals that hurt Mrs. Cardenas _before_ her murder? You even admitted to knowing about the spike in criminal activity on live television," I interrupted, bringing out my interviewer voice, talking over him a bit. He looked down, a bit caught off guard by my questions. Vanessa didn't look too pleased with me now, either. Good. "I think that's enough questions for now, Miss Fletcher," Wesley said, acting like he didn't know me. With his warning eyes and tight jaw.

I wanted to slap him. But I exhaled with a light smile. "Yes, you're probably right," I agreed, with a polite chuckle. "Please forgive me for being so forward. I get ahead of myself sometimes." Vanessa smiled with a chuckle as well, like I'd just said something funny. It was almost as if they'd just literally snapped out of their mood. "It's no trouble at all, Miss Fletcher," Fisk nodded once.

"So, does anybody need a drink as bad as I do?" Owlsley asked, pulling glasses off a waiter's tray. He handed a glass to Vanessa, and then offered one to me, but I shook my head. "Oh, no thank you. I don't like to drink on the job," I refused. He nodded and sipped on the drink himself. "That was a wonderful speech, Fisk," a man in a suit said, sidling up beside Owlsley. "You ever think about running for office?"

I recognized him as Senator Cherryh. I hated that guy when he was running for office. "I'll leave that to people like you, Senator," Fisk replied, politely.

The Senator laughed. "That's a good answer. You, um…got a minute to talk about that zoning issue?"

"Yes, of course," Fisk turned to Vanessa. "I'll be back in a minute." He kissed her cheek and shuffled off with Senator Cherryh, leaving me with Wesley, Owlsley, and Fisk's girlfriend. "Miss Fletcher, may I speak with you a moment?" Wesley asked, causing me to almost raise an eyebrow. The look on his face told me he wouldn't take no for an answer. I nodded once. "Of course," I replied, instantly regretting it. He instantly started in my direction, and I turned to move with him as we started off.

It was good excuse to get away from Satan's mistress but a horrible idea all the same. He placed a hand at the small of my back to ensure I would keep walking. As we got far enough away—at least past one table—I lowered my voice while keeping my expression neutral. "Casually remove your hand before I grab a knife and cut it off," I said, causing him to drop his hand and stop, turning to me.

"What do you think you're doing here, Alison? Talking to _Fisk_?" he questioned, with a slightly hushed tone. It was still his usual smooth, professional sounding voice. "I think this is the stupidest thing I have ever seen you do. If he finds out who you are to me, he will kill you." My eyebrows knitted together and I opened my mouth, but I was cut off by the sound of gasps and panicked voices behind me. I turned left. A man suddenly collapsed into a table.

No one caught him in time and he fell straight to the floor. I was only able to see for maybe a second before a small crowd surrounded him. Then it was a blonde woman collapsing, her champagne glass shattering loudly against the hard floor. What in the world was going on? Then another man and another. Someone must have dosed the drinks. Wesley grabbed my upper arm, causing me to look at him. "You need to leave, now," he said, forecully.

"Wesley! Get the car, we need to leave, now," Fisk said, passing us. Suddenly he called out, "Vanessa!" and then he was elbowing through the crowd faster than a horse on a race track. "Somebody get a doctor!" Owlsley called, only mildly affected by the situation. I had the urge to act and I felt Wesley's grip on my arm tighten. "Alison…" he warned. "Don't." I sighed heavily and yanked my arm from his grasp, then started through the crowd.

"Move!" I said, squeezing myself between idiot gawkers and on-lookers. "Get out of my way!" It took a minute but I elbowed my way through to Fisk and a now unconscious Vanessa, limp in his arms. I hurriedly moved around to her other side and knelt. "Lay her down, keep her head to the side," I instructed, upon seeing the ugly froth coming from her mouth. "If you don't she could choke." Fisk didn't hesitate to comply, probably too consumed with panic to care who helped.

I bent down and gently peeled up an eyelid. Dilated pupils, foaming at the mouth, sudden unconsciousness…it was definitely some kind of poison but what kind specifically? There aren't many around that have these symptoms; I guess that's a start. I reached up behind me and took the empty glass off the top of a table, then positioned it just right to get a nice reflection directed at her eye. A few dancing circles of light were shined right where I needed them.

As I moved them, her pupils stayed the same. _Non-reactive to light_ , I took note in my head. I put down the glass and checked the pulse rate. It was a bit high and choppy, sporadic. "Can you help her?" Fisk asked, hopelessly. I pursed my lips and re-tilted her head to the side, holding it in place. "She needs to be in a hospital, fast," I shook my head. "This is obviously a reaction to some kind of poison. I can't help her here."

" _Poison_? Dear lord…" Owlsley stepped away. Fisk slid his arms under her and hefted her up. I kept my hands on her head just to make sure it stayed sideways. "Will she even make it to a hospital?" Owlsley asked, as Fisk started for the door. It was a bit fifty/fifty at this point. "I'm not sure. But there's a hospital only a few blocks from here," I replied, following behind Fisk. He was making the perfect path as he bulldozed through the panicked crowd.

It occurred to me once or twice on the way to the hospital, constantly keeping tabs on Vanessa's pulse and keeping her head sideways, that maybe Wesley was right. This was one of the stupid ideas ever in my entire life. Sure, get on Fisk's good side. What good will that do you? He's still a manipulative psychotic. And he still wants Matt and Dani dead. Maybe if I help him keep his girlfriend alive he won't go all full-psycho and try to kill them sooner than we hoped?

Finally after a short car ride, we lurched to a stop outside the nearest possible hospital. Doors were flying open, people were running, and I was in the front of it all. "We need a doctor over here!" I shouted, after Fisk burst through the door to the ER. It only took a second for a dark-skinned doctor in a white coat to hurry out to the waiting area. "Let's get a gurney out here!" he called to the nurses, taking off his stethoscope. Then, to us, he asked, "What happened?"

"She drank something," Wesley answered.

"It was laced with poison," I added. "We don't know what kind—there were others poisoned, too."

"How long has she been unconscious?" the doctor asked, examining Vanessa.

"Twenty minutes, maybe longer," Wesley said.

"Her pupils are slow to non-responsive, pulse is thready and weak, and she did have some kind of foam coming from her mouth," I explained, stepping around Fisk to stand near the front of the gurney. "Okay, I need an intubation tray stat. Let's start one-thousand CCs of Ringer's lactate to KVO until we know what's going on," the doctor said, looking at the nurse over his shoulder. She scribbled some things down on her clipboard, nodding. "Hemodialysis and gastric lavage?" she asked.

"I need a tox screen, liver and kidney function, coagulation tests," the doctor replied.

"Okay, I'll call up to ICU for a bed," she said, before scurrying off. Then the doctor twisted up to see the rest of us. "You said there were others, how many?" he asked, to no one in particular.

"Around six," I answered.

"Shouldn't someone be looking at me? I had a glass, too," Owlsley said, slightly panicked and completely in the way. I sighed, stepping back as the doctor and nurses put up the sides of the gurney and started rolling her through the double doors. "We'll have a nurse come check you out," the doctor replied.

"I'm coming with her," Fisk announced, trying to follow.

"I'm sorry we can't have you in there," a nurse said, getting in front of him at the door.

He tried to shove his way in, angrily bellowing, "Don't you know who I am?"

"It doesn't matter! Fill out the paperwork. We'll update you on her condition as soon as we know anything," she said, shoving his back a step. Then she turned and ran off to follow the gurney. Wow, that was impressive. Especially considering she was only roughly my height trying to get rid of a guy twice her size. Being in such a rat hole hospital you have to be tough. I should know. Now all that was to be done was the waiting. And that was the worst part.

It was _always_ the worst part. When you sat there not knowing whether or not the person you loved was going to die or come back to you, and there was nothing you could do to sway the end result either way. All you could do was sit. All you could do was pray. Of course, that didn't seem to work when I was in Fisk's position. Fisk dropped onto a bench and that was where he stayed. It was like pouring in cement mix to a mold. He just sat there with an empty expression.

His body guards stood in various positions near and around the bench. Owlsley stayed a few feet back and Wesley was currently performing a mild pace. I inhaled and dropped onto a cushion a foot to the right of Fisk. There was really nowhere else to sit. And honestly I think I was too emotionally invested in this scenario to not see it through. "How did you two meet?" I asked, trying to fill the silence.

I didn't really care to know, I just couldn't think of anything else to say. He stayed quiet a long moment. And I thought he wouldn't reply. But then he sucked in a heavy breath. "I went to her art gallery," he started, glumly. "I was…looking over a painting when she walked over. She told me a joke about a rabbit in a snow storm."

"She sounds lovely," I exhaled tiredly, leaning back into the wall behind the bench. He turned a little to look over at me a second, then turned back to sit facing forward. "If you don't mind me asking…why are you still here?" he asked, looking down at his hands. "Shouldn't you be at your office, writing a story about how terrible I am?"

"Technically, yes. I don't know. I guess I just wanted to see it through," I shrugged a bit, sitting up. I checked my watch. It was getting way too late. Mary was expecting me to pick up Chase just over an hour ago. Can I arrive on time for anything these days? I guess not. "But…it looks like I have to get going. I'm late to relieve the babysitter." I stood with an exhale and started down the hall.

Right past Wesley and Owlsley having a hushed, top-secret-looking conversation. I didn't look, didn't stare—just kept walking. "Goodnight, Miss Fletcher," I heard Wesley's voice as I got a few feet down the hall. Great, now I would have to respond. I twisted to see behind me while still moving and made a small, casual type wave before turning back to walk straight to the exit.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"Why do I feel worse today than I did yesterday?" I stiffly made my way to the living room. Matt chuckled as he came out of the kitchen. He handed me some pain killers and a glass of water. "Well, you did sleep for fourteen hours," he smirked. I sighed and then downed the pills.

"Thanks." I sat the glass down on the table. I leaned on the edge of one of the chairs and he sat in the other. "Clint texted. Apparently the plan worked, he bought it."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Fisk held a press conference first thing-" Someone knocked on the door and cut him off. It was quickly followed by another series of knocks. Then we heard, "Matt, it's Karen." We both sighed. I looked at Matt. "What does she know?" I asked in a hush tone. He shook his head and stood. He walked passed me, toward the door, and then stopped.

"Dani, your face. Is it covered?" he asked.

"No, but probably should be. I'll be right back." I headed straight for the bathroom, slower than a tortoise might I add. But I reached the bathroom before Matt reached the door, so that counts for something. I flipped on the light and then dug through my bag. Mary brought it over last night with a change of clothes. I found the box of gauze pads and quickly opened it. But the box seemed to be spring loaded and pads went everywhere. I sighed and tossed the box on the counter.

I pulled a pad out of the sink and then began opening the package. I hate having to do this. I feel like I look weird. And I probably do. But anything's better than how I really look. I am SOOOOO thankful Matt can't see it. I pinned my hair back and then taped on the first gauze pad. I found another package behind the faucet and then quickly opened it.

As I worked, I could hear Karen in the distance asking Matt a bunch of questions. She sounds mad. Or annoyed. Either way, this should be fun. Once I was finished, I unpinned my hair and placed it as best I could over the bandage. It only covers half. Oh, well. I can't hide it forever. I shrugged at my appearance in the mirror and then headed out of the bathroom. From what I could hear, Karen thinks it was a car accident and she thinks Matt was alone. Hopefully I can help back up his story.

"So, where were you…when this car hit you?" she sounded way too skeptical. Not good. When Karen thinks she's being lied to, she finds the truth. And she won't stop until she does. That can be a very dangerous trait to have. Take me as an example.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the photos. "The other side of town," I blurted. She slightly jumped and whipped around. Matt had sat down at the table with a beer. He looked at me with an eyebrow raised. Karen gasped when she saw me and put a hand over her mouth. "Yeah, we were on our way back from Alison's new place. Some guy ran a red light."

"Are you okay?" she asked. I shrugged. "Wait. I thought Foggy said Matt was alone."

"His information is outdated," Matt said.

"Right. And you guys aren't talking," she crossed her arms. I couldn't tell if she bought it. She looked at me. "You were driving?" A million replies to that one comment flew through my head in the blink of an eye. I just smiled and nodded. "So," she looked flustered. "What happened?"

"See for yourself." I walked up to her and gave her my phone. Matt looked both concerned and curious. "My cousin was able to get a pic of the wreck. Well, at least our car. Good luck finding the other." Matt visibly relaxed and took a drink of his beer. Karen gasped and covered her mouth again, looking at the photo.

"Oh my goodness. I can't believe you guys made it out alive."

"Well, we definitely had luck on our side," Matt said grimly.

"And a few guardian angels," I added.

Karen gave me back the phone. "Oh, that reminds me. Have you guys heard what they've been saying about Angel?" I shook my head. She pulled a news paper out of her purse. "They're saying she's dead, and Fisk is trying to pin it on the man in the mask." So…the fat man really did buy it. I guess dreams do come true. She unfolded the paper and gave it to me. On the front page was the picture Clint had given Ben of a body dressed as Angel. I sighed.

"Sounds like Fisk," Matt said looking at me. I gave her back the paper. "Yes, but people are believing him," she said. "No one might know what to think about the man in the mask, but everyone knew what side Angel was one. The city is outraged. Now, they're looking for a new hero and guess who that is."

"Fisk."

"He's rallying his troops around the death of a hero and using it as fuel to catch the man in the mask." She is way more passionate about this subject than I thought. Glad to know I still have one fan. Though I don't think Karen counts. "Well, good luck finding him," I scoffed. "I doubt we'll see him for a while. Or at least, not until this all blows over. If he really did kill her…if he values his life he'll stay away."

"And if he didn't?"

I paused. "Then he better be a hundred percent sure he can take down Fisk, this time."


	24. Do You Do Chicks?

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed pointedly, pulling the needle through the other side of Matt's skin. "Do I even want to know what caused you to reopen this?" I asked, mostly in a joking manner. Though I was concentrating on the suture I was currently working on, so who knows how it actually sounded. Probably more along the lines of _stressed_. That's how I've felt ever since leaving Foggy's apartment two days ago. The first guy I loved tried to kill me, after that Foggy cheated on me—I can't wait to see whose next.

Matt huffed an airy chuckle, startling me from my thoughts. I shook a little but quickly regained my grip on the needle. "It was PG, I promise," he smiled, closed-mouthed. I clipped off the string and started for a third stitch on what was going to be a long stretch of them along the wound on his abdomen. The refrigerator door slammed. "What exactly are you insinuating happened?" Dani asked, from off behind the couch somewhere.

I was listening to what she was saying, but it was interrupted in my mind by Matt's voice. "Are you okay, Alison?" he asked, quietly. Dani continued on, saying something I'm sure was sarcastic, but I wasn't paying attention. I paused, looking up at Matt. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" I asked, like it was an observed notion.

"Are you two even listening to me?" Dani asked, knowingly, as she came to stand at the end of the couch.

I nodded, resuming stitching. "Yep."

"You're a terrible liar, Fletcher," she crossed her arms. "Alright, out with it. How horrible was last night's fundraiser? It must've been pretty bad for you to be so quiet." My lips tugged up a bit, threatening to smile, as I clipped off the string. I exhaled, "Terrible, actually. If that Wesley guy doesn't stop being alive I think I might move, Fisk was an idiot, his girlfriend was almost unbearable, and six random people were given poisoned champagne glasses. Ellison wants me to look into it."

Dani sat on the arm of the couch with a plop. "You should. There's no way that was an accident—not with Fisk involved. We need to know who decided to turn on him in the evil Brady Bunch." Only then did I notice a beer in her hand. She raised an eyebrow at the look I gave her. "Alcohol? At nine in the morning?" I asked, unbelieving.

She shrugged. "It helps with the pain. And I think I've earned a few embarrassingly tipsy moments."

"We all have," Matt agreed. "But Fisk isn't gonna stop coming for us. Well…for me. He thinks you're dead."

"And so does all of New York," Dani said, before taking a pull from her bottle. I sat back with a sigh, finally finished stitching, and starting pulling off my latex gloves. "Remind me how that's supposed to help anything? Ellison will just want me to write about it," I commented, before standing. I started putting the sewing supplies back into my med bag while Dani went into full conspiracy mode, sounding like a chipmunk that was just given coffee.

"If the public knows I'm dead, Fisk will try to spin in- he'll say it was the mask's fault," she clapped a hand on Matt's shoulder upon saying his name. I sat atop the coffee table, crossing my arms. "He'll be expecting the mask to go off half cocked and do something stupid. He'll be waiting for him to slip up. That gives us the advantage—because he won't see anything planned coming. And he definitely won't see _me_ coming."

Matt pulled up the zipper on his jacket while he stood. "Always have to make an entrance," he joked, stepping around her sitting on the couch to head off toward the kitchen. Dani rolled her eyes, but she had a mildly amused smile on her face. It was odd. Seeing them as…well, _themselves_ , together was still so new. Dani suddenly moved onto the cushion and slid to where Matt was sitting, and I raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're okay? You just don't look like yourself," she pointed out.

"I…" I sighed, and then chuckled. "I don't know. You and Matt seem a little _too_ much like yourselves."

Dani smiled. "Yeah. Between us at least, things are good. How about you and Foggy? Should I be available to help you move in sometime soon?" She looked away right after saying that, twisting a bit to glance behind her at Matt in the kitchen. I didn't know what to say. Regardless of if I would admit it under oath or not, my chest still hurt. It hurt a lot. _Just sleep it off_ , I told myself. _You'll be fine in the morning_. Well when I lay down in my room, all alone, that's all I can think about.

When Dani looked back at me, her smile instantly dropped. Her eyebrows creased and she sat forward. "Ally, what happened?" she asked, hushing her tone a bit. "Did you have a fight or something?" I opened my mouth, but just closed it a second later. With an indecisive sound that was the mixture of a groan and a whine, I scrubbed my hands over my face. "We broke up," I finally admitted.

Her mouth made an O shape and the rest of her features looked sympathetic. "Why? You guys looked so happy," she tilted her head to the side, watching me closely.

I inhaled. "Mm…well, first, he yelled at me and stormed out. Second, he refused to return my calls. And, the straw that broke the camel's back, he slept with his ex." She sat back, in a pause of disbelief. It only took a short moment to suddenly look angry. "He _didn't_ ," she wrinkled her nose up. "With that _blonde bimbo_? What an idiot! Alison…I'm sorry."

I shook my head, waving it away. "Don't be. He's not worth my time anyway, I guess."

"Cheers to that," she held up her beer, and I smiled. Suddenly she looked very serious. It made me a little unnerved how fast she could change emotions and expressions. "You know, my mom said something to me when I was younger. She said, 'It's okay to be broken because one day, someone is going to hold you so tight, he'll put all your broken pieces back together'. I think I know why now—now that I've met you."

I lightly scoffed. "Why? Because I'm hopeless?"

"Because you may be broken _right now_ , but the right one is still on his way," she corrected. "You've just gotta wait for it." _Wait for it_. The story of my life.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I wrapped a towel around me and then pulled back the shower curtain. "See? No need to worry." Mary leaned against the counter with her arms crossed. She still looked unconvinced. "Well," she shrugged. "I'd rather be safe than sorry. You took a really hard beating. You should be resting, not plotting your next mission."

"Fisk won't stop until he's won."

"And if he kills you this time?" she borderline glared at me. I haven't seen her like this is awhile. She's the kind of person who looks mad when they're really concerned. I sighed slightly, caught off guard by her question. "What then?" I've always had a plan for if I die. And I could go into it right now, tell her how I plan on taking care of her and Lizzie after I'm dead. But that's not what she wants to hear. She saw how long it was taking me to reply, and nodded. "I'll be out here." She turned and left.

I cursed myself for not saying anything. Anything would've been better than nothing. I got dressed as fast as I could and then stepped out of the bathroom into my bedroom. I tossed my towel across the room to the hamper, missing as always. I sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. I started to think about the 'what if's' and instantly regretted it. I don't let my mind go to certain places, and that's usually because it hurts too much. This is one of those places.

Images of our fight with Nobu poured into my head, taking advantage of me letting my guard down. I saw it play out like it was happening right now. I felt the adrenaline, heard flesh ripping, tasted my blood in my mouth. I even could smell the flames that engulfed Nobu. Then I heard the shot. I startled and opened my eyes, unable to catch my breath. I sat there for a few minutes trying to regain my composure. In other words, hide my feelings so deep even I don't know I'm feeling them.

Mary walked in with a laundry basket full of clothes. I kept my line of sight on the floor as she walked past me. "I don't like this any more than you do." My voice sounded raw, with almost no emotion. "And I'm sorry you have to suffer the consequences of my actions, should I not come back." I looked up at her. She was staring at me, waiting for my next words. "I will admit, after Andy died I slightly lost my mind. But, here, I know what I'm doing. I know this is what I was meant to do, put on that costume and save lives. I know that can come with a great cost."

Our faces slightly sobered, thinking of Andy and how Ben betrayed us. "I have friends I'm protecting, and a city that's blind to the danger it's in. You and Elizabeth are the only family I have left. My mom's dead, so is Andy, Dad might as well be, and Ben…well, I don't know how I lost him. I'd like to say I'd stop if you asked me, I really do." She looked away, tears brimming her eyes. "But I can't…not even for family."

She nodded. "I understand. And I don't want you to stop, it's just…the thought of losing you, too-"

"I know." I stood and hugged her. She burst into tears, clutching me. "I was so scared," she cried into my shoulder. "When you were missing, I…I felt like I was dead. After losing Andy, that was the scariest moment of my life." I held her until she stopped crying. She pulled back and looked at me. "I believe everything you've told me about Fisk. So, you do what you have to do." I simply nodded.

I packed a small bag and then headed back to Matt's. I'm not sure exactly where I'll be staying. Probably here or there depending on what's going on. I found Matt on the couch, where I left him three hours ago. "How'd it go?" he asked sitting up. I sighed and sat down next to him. "That good, huh?" he smiled.

"No, it's…" I sighed and waved it away. "Never mind. But…I reached out to some old contacts, dug through some old cases, and I've narrowed down a list of possible people Fisk could be getting his body armor from." I reached into my bag and pulled out the list. I looked it over. "I have five names, but…"

"But what?"

"One sticks out more than the others. He was a costume designer who decided to become a professional criminal. I helped a friend of his with his case. He did do some time, but I helped him get out on good behavior. I think we should start with him."

"Okay." He stood.

"You want to go now? Like, right this second?" I asked. He walked over to a wooden wardrobe on the far side of the room. He opened the doors and revealed a large chest. He turned and looked at me, "Did you get what you went there for?" I rolled my eyes and the reached into my bag, pulling out my folded down bow.

"Not that I'll be able to use it-" I held it up in front of me. With a quick jerk, it expanded. "-but, yeah." We changed and left the apartment just after night fall. I really didn't like this. I felt like a sitting duck, like I was asking to get another beating. I decided to dress as Angel, but I wore a black hoddie over my blue leather jacket. I can't let anyone catch a glimpse of me. Especially since I'm well…dead.

"I hope you know," I said as we walked across the roof of this guys last known address, "if someone starts throwing fists, you're on your own." The Mask chuckled as he popped the lid on the roof access hatch. "We'll see," he said. "But if we do run into trouble, get yourself to safety if you can't take it."

"I thought we agreed to stop giving each other these ultimatums…?" I asked. He ignored me and dropped down through the hatch. I rolled my eyes and followed. "You know you give me the silent treatment when you know I'm right, right?" the question was more rhetorical. He helped me land on my feet and then we began our search. And we're definitely in the right place. It looks like an old warehouse. Small, but full of tools. One of those half manikin things sat across the room with a vest on it. He's clearly still making stuff.

The Mask took off his glove and felt the martial on the manikin. While he did…whatever, I scanned the room. Rolls of fabric and some big expensive pieces of equipment. He must be on Fisk's payroll. But I thought he was getting out of the criminal business. I heard a chain jingle just before the garage door opened. I quickly ducked into the adjoining room and hide next to the door. The Mask had already pulled one of his disappearing acts. The guy we're after, Melvin Potter, he walked in as the garage door closed behind him.

He set down some piece of machinery and then continued into his shop. It only took him a minute to notice someone had been messing with his stuff. The Mask stepped out and stood a few feet behind him. When Potter saw him, he looked both shocked and concerned. "You shouldn't be here."

"You work for Fisk?" Mask asked. I hung back, waiting to see if my services were needed. I'm supposed to be dead, so if someone discovers who I am in a fight…then I really would be dead. But, Potter didn't reply. "I asked you a question." And with that, fighting ensued. Potter started it and the Mask was instantly on defense.

Potter swung, Mask deflected and then kicked him in the leg. Then he quickly kicked him in the face. Potter recovered and continued his arm assault. The Mask went to swing and then froze, like he was stuck. It must be his stab wound. That two second pause or hesitation, whatever you want to call it, gave his opponent the upper hand. Potter grabbed the side of his head and then began slamming it against the table. He slammed it three times before switching gears. He grabbed his head with both hands and then proceeded to lift him off the ground.

Potter said, "You shouldn't be here." And then threw him to the ground. The Mask got to his feet and then they were at it again. This time throwing each other into walls. How am I supposed to know if he needs help? Do I step in or let him deal with it? I sighed in frustration. We really should've worked out a signal or code word or something. I guess that'll have to wait for next time.

Potter whipped his nose and then looked at his hand. "That wasn't very nice." He sniffled as the Mask got to his feet. Okay, what is Potter's deal? He's acting like a five year old on a play ground. Potter grabbed a round saw blade and threw it. The Mask just barely got out of the way. They exchanged a few more hits and tumbles, then the Mask was on his back on the table. Potter grabbed a chain hanging from the ceiling and wrapped it around his neck. Okay, time for me to step in.

I pulled out my grappling hook as I stepped out into the room. I launched the hook around one of the beams on the ceiling. Once it was securely on there, I jumped and swung. My feet slammed into Potter, pushing him into the wall. I swung back and landed, folding away the grappling hook. As he hit the wall, he let go of the chain around the Mask's neck. He was now on the floor at my feet. I favored my right shoulder, helping the Mask up with my left side. He got to his feet, clearly in a lot of pain.

Potter had fallen on the floor after that hit and was now on his hands and knees. I turned my attention away from him and back at the Mask. I can't tell if he's bleeding, thanks to the black costume. I opened my mouth to speak when I heard something that completely caught me off guard. We both looked down at Potter. He was crying, "You're not supposed to be in here." I suddenly felt really uncomfortable. This doesn't make any sense. None at all. He continued to sob, "Mr. Fisk's gonna be mad. He's gonna hurt her."

"Who's he gonna hurt?" the Mask asked. Suddenly we were both on high alert by his words. This could be a trick, or someone could actually be in danger. Potter continued to sob on the floor. I wasn't sure if I should feel sorry for him or be mad that he's not answering the question. But it makes sense now why he's working for Fisk. "Who's Fisk gonna hurt, Melvin?"

Potter was on his knees, still crying. "Betsy." He sobbed harder at the sound of her name. Of course. I'm an idiot. I should've put all of this together a long time ago. I sighed and then got down to his level on one knee. I glanced up at the Mask. He might not like what I'm about to do, but I think it's my best shot. I slipped off my hood, my hair in a ponytail lying across my shoulder. Then I took off my glasses, careful to keep the rest of my suit covered. Potter looked at me, doing a double take. "I…I know you." I nodded. "I've seen you with Betsy."

"Yeah, I've helped her in the past." I quickly glanced up. The Mask seemed to understand what I was doing, but he didn't appear to like it. "She's a nice woman, isn't she?" I smiled. He quickly nodded. "So, why would Fisk want to hurt such a nice woman?"

"No one's supposed to be here, in…in the shop, unless he brings them," he said, eyeing my scar. The Mask crouched down with us, "So you do work for Fisk?"

"I said no, when he asked. Said no, Betsy wouldn't like it. She wants me to be good. I gotta be good. So I…I make things. I'm good at making things."

"I'm sorry, Melvin. Fisk has hurt people that I care about, too." His head went up slightly, like he was looking at me if he could. "I know what it's like to worry about them…wanting to keep them safe."

"He make you work for him too?" Potter looked between us.

I shook my head. "No, quite the opposite. We're trying to stop him."

"And if we succeed," the Mask said, "Fisk won't be able to hurt anyone else. Including Betsy."

"We're trying to help her and the city," I added. Potter instantly perked up at the sound of that. "Maybe you can help us. Did you make a suit for Fisk?"

"Made a whole bunch. It keeps him safe," he replied. So, that means Fisk and all his men are probably decked out in this stuff. Great. The Mask grabbed a piece of the materiel off the table and held it in his hand. "Can you make something for me out of this?" he asked.

"You want a suit, like…like Mr. Fisk?"

"No. No, I want something very special. And if you do this for me…I promise to keep Fisk out of your life…to keep Betsy safe."

"You can do that?"

"With your help I…" he looked up at me again. "I think we can." I nodded and then he nodded back. I know we can stop Fisk. And thankfully, now so does Matt. I stood and rubbed my shoulder. Potter and the Mask stood a minute later. They started talking about what suit Potter would make. I slightly tuned them out and went deep into thought. When it looked like they were about done, I stepped forward.

"Hey," I nodded toward Potter. "Do you do chicks?"

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My breath fogged in the cold night air as I sighed. I shut my car door, causing the sound to echo off the empty warehouse behind me. Sliding my hands in my pockets I started across the gravel toward the only other car around, the only one with the truck up. A tall, skinny dark-skinned man was selling guns and ammo to a couple Hispanic-looking men out of the back of his car. Right where I knew he'd be. As I got closer, I could hear that the men were gonna get a great deal.

And that was exactly what I needed. Right as they finished shaking hands, and the Hispanics stared walking away, I stepped up beside him. "Turk," I smiled, closed-mouthed as he turned to me. "How's business?"

"Hey, Alison. It's been a while, huh?" His hey was drawn out, his smile a bit too bright. Then I understood. He thought I was here doing a story about something illegal he was doing. I crossed my arms. "Yeah, it's been quite a while since you tried to steal my purse right off my arm," I smiled wider, knowingly as his shoulders dropped and his face became more serious. "How long ago would you say that was?"

"Okay, okay. But, for the record, you _did_ pepper spray me. _In the face_ ," he justified.

I dropped my arms. "Yes, I remember. I'm actually here to buy a gun." He paused cold, eyeing me suspiciously. And he stayed like that a long moment. Finally he snapped out of it slightly. Just enough to ask, "What do you need a gun for, Fletcher? Last I checked, your job was practically hazard free."

"It's not for my job," I shook my head. "I didn't come here for questions, I came here for product. Do you have any hand guns? Preferably nine millimeters."

" _Well_ , it just so happens that I have somethin' like that right here," he dug into his truck and I wrapped my arms around myself as a gust of cold wind hit me. A second later he pulled out a black, sleek looking hand gun. He held it in a way that I could easily see it, draped across his palms for display. "This baby right here? She'll take care of your average home intruder _and_ that pesky neighbor that won't turn down the music."

I laughed, shaking my head at his humor. "And she's yours for just two-fifty," he finished, smiling at the end, like a good salesmen. I hummed a moment, mulling over the price. It was a bit high. I didn't leave myself much of an allowance what with all the repairs on the building lately. It seemed like every second a new repairman was coming to fix something else. "Is there any way that could be mine for less?" I raised an eyebrow hopefully.

He pursed his lips, thinking. "Alright. One-fifty—consider it the still-crazy-that-we're-actually-friends discount."

"Deal." I dug into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. My hands were shaking a bit from the cold—that and the anxiety of having to do this is the first place. But I needed to know I could protect myself. With Matt and Dani making a play, Fisk is gonna get burned. But until then I can't count on the vigilantes to save me if something happens. I handed Turk the crisp bills and swiped the gun to examine it closer. "Pleasure doin' business with you. You're sure you really need that?"

I looked back up to him with a nod. "Very. Do you have any bullets for this thing?"

"Right here," he reached into the trunk, then pulled out a small unmarked box. He held it out to me. "Free of charge."

I raised an eyebrow, but took the box. "Really?"

"Yeah. You just take care of yourself, alright?" he said, folding up my money and shoving it into his pocket. "Yourself _and_ the little guy you got at home." I nodded once, inhaling an icy cold breath. Especially the little guy I have at home. He's more than half the reason I'm here. "Will do. Try to stay out of jail, okay?" I plastered on a small smile, starting around him to my car, the gun's metal heavy in my hands.


	25. Better Than 24

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

It didn't happen all at once. My mind was awake and working, but my eyes couldn't move. It took a minute for the rest of my body to catch up but, when they did, that's when it happened all at once. I jolted against what felt like some kind of chair and shot upright as my eyelids snapped open, and suddenly every part of me was acutely aware. The scenery change surprised me more than the company, sitting across from me.

I expected something to happen. That's why I bought a gun. But I expected something a little more public. Not drugged and taken to some kind of warehouse. I narrowed my eyes, squaring my shoulders. "So...this is how it's going to be? Kill me in some secluded place, then dump my body in the river?"

Wesley rested his forearms into the table, leaning in a bit. His expression was tired. "I'm not going to _kill_ you, Alison," he exhaled. "I'm trying to protect you. You put yourself right in front of Fisk and made him angry. He knows you don't support him. Who's to say he won't pin the fundraiser on you?"

"If this is your idea of protecting me, you have even more issues than I thought," I laughed humorlessly, mainly from the nerves.

"I know our relationship is a bit strained, but I'm not a threat to you," he assured.

I scoffed. "What in the world is your idea of a threat? You tried to _kill_ me! You said we weren't supposed to get as far as a baby and now you're acting like it was actually _real_ for you. You're not as good of a liar as you think you are, Steven," I paused a little, making a point of it. "Or is it _James_? I don't even know your name. So _don't_ expect me to trust you."

A pained look flashed across his face a second. But it was gone before I was even sure I'd seen it. My lungs felt like they'd been filled with cement and my throat was dry. It was a miracle I could act like I wasn't scared. Because I was. I was terrified. I didn't know if I even wanted to keep Chase ten years ago, but there is no way that I am ever leaving him because some psychotic nutjob fooled me twice.

Despite my words, he acted unphased. He sat back a bit in his chair, eyeing me a second, thinking. "James," his voice was quiet. But then he cleared his throat, speaking louder. "My name is James." I inhaled through my nose, clenching my jaw. " _I don't care_ ," I replied, dryly.

"Do you think this is a game?" he asked, as if just realizing something.

"That's all this has ever been to you," I spat, my eyebrows knitting together. "Just let me go home. I know people that can protect me a whole lot better than whatever you think _this_ is."

His features settled. "Right...you have always had ties with vigilantes."

"Yes, they're great for stopping murderers," I smirked.

He smiled, closed-mouthed. "Cute," he pulled off his glasses, becoming serious for his next words. "Someday you'll know the whole story, and you'll understand why I did what I did all those years ago. And you'll know that everything I have ever done...was to protect you. Believe me or not—it doesn't change the truth." The genuine look, the realization of the bitter facts, seeing a resemblance of the man _I_ knew—it was a deadly mixture.

My smirk faltered, fading as my eyes stung. No tears just a burning. Like they wished they could cry but couldn't muster up the strength needed to do it yet. There was a tug in my chest. Saying you know he's right. Whatever twisted way he thinks, he might actually have thought he was protecting me by killing me. Sparing me from whatever hell he thought was waiting for me. But why? Why was I a target? I shouldn't have been.

And yet I was. Without his glasses, he looked more like _Steve_. The version of the man in front of me that I knew was there. He looked older but the same. He leaned into the table again, clasping his hands in front of him. "Don't you see? I lied to keep you safe, to keep you away from this part of my life," he urged. A sinking feeling suddenly hit me. "Alison...I did it because I _love_ you." And that was it.

I shook my head, trying to will it to not have been said. Don't do this. Don't make me still care about you. Too late. I dropped my head into my hands as a few rogue tears burned their way over the edges of my eyelids, forcing me to accept their existence. The real me, down inside, knew I cared. But the me you see every day—the one that's kept me alive, and the reason I'm still sane—wouldn't accept it.

"No," I looked up with a sniffle, pushing my stupid hair out of my face. Now I was angry. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to do all this horrible stuff to me and then excuse yourself so quickly. I don't care why you did it. It doesn't change the fact that you did it. And that will _never_ change. I'm always going to be running. Do you understand that? I will _never stop running_." His eyes softened, saddened. It was the first bit of emotion that wasn't arrogant.

It wasn't covered in self-righteousness, and _I'm-right-no-matter-what_. It was deep settled realization. The damage was done years ago. But he's only just now figured out that I won't just come back to him because he still loves me. I won't ask how high when he tells me to jump. We can't be the people we were ten years ago. One of us became a criminal's evil henchmen. And the other became a single mother running for her life.

"I just needed you to know...it was always real for me," he resigned, sitting back again.

"If you _love_ me," it almost pained me to say the words, keeping my chin up. "Then you will let me go home to _our son_ , and you will never speak to me again."

He shook his head apologetically. "I can't do that. I've come too far not to finish what I started."

"You started a tragedy, James," I corrected. My heart was beginning to pound in my ears. There had to be a way out of this situation. I was trying to scan for every possible solution. No one was coming to rescue me this time. It was all up to me. I had to save myself now. "Fisk won't stop coming for you, and anyone I care about," he refused. "I have to make sure you're safe." I needed a distraction.

Start talking, Alison. "You don't need to protect me anymore," while I spoke, my left hand slowly crept along the side of my chair toward the back. "I've been on my own this whole time and only now you come forward to 'protect' me, but you're just making it worse. You're not fixing anything by keeping me here." Finally, my fingers tip toed to the waist of my jeans and to the belt at my lower back. The tips touched metal.

I fought not to make an outward reaction. Thankfully, he was stupid enough not to search me. Poor little Alison, can't protect herself. Think again, you narrow-minded- in a second, I pulled the gun free and held it up, aiming it at him across the table, holding it with both hands firmly. The look of surprise was no little amount of satisfaction. He truly didn't see anything like this coming. I fought the urge to say something demeaning and witty.

This was serious. I had to focus. He frowned. "When did you start using guns?"

"When you started becoming the villain of the story," I replied, my heart in my throat. My voice was shaking. So were my hands, but I prayed that he wouldn't notice. "Now...let. Me. Go."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." His expression made it seem like he thought I was joking. Or maybe he was making a prayer of his own, that I wouldn't have learned how to use this thing. I stood to gain better ground, maybe steady myself a bit more. The gun stayed aimed for his chest. I sidestepped to get away from the chair, and then took slow steps backward. "I'm leaving, and if you try to stop me-"

He stood. "You'll shoot me?" I stopped, but kept a defensive position. He started around the table with slow steps, holding his hands up. "It doesn't have to be like between us, Alison. I never wanted to hurt you. Never."

I inhaled. "Don't you dare come any closer."

He stopped, only maybe just over a yard in front of me now. "I'll prove it to you." He slowly reached into his suit jacket, and I held the gun tighter, slipping my finger into the trigger guard. "Stop," I ordered, firmly. "Don't move or I will shoot." He kept his free hand up in surrender, but he kept reaching. "I'm not going to hurt you," he promised. "It's okay. Put the gun down."

" _Don't move_ ," I reiterated, not budging. I could almost feel my blood start to pump faster, my heart beating against my rib cage as the adrenaline was truly taking over of my reflexes, preparing for war. I fought myself to keep still. My hands shook, almost violently so. "Stop, _now_."

"Alison-"

My ears were suddenly filled with a loud crack and a force caused my arms to lurch back, moving me back a step to catch myself. It didn't sink in what I did until a red circle to the left of the middle of his chest materialized and began slowly growing. The look of disbelief almost outweighed the pain of his expression. He looked down, felt the red spot, and then stared at the blood on his hand. I don't even think he knew he was moving until he stumbled back into the table.

It was a clumsy stumble, catching himself for a moment before the momentum dragged him down to the floor. Then it hit me. My eyes widened and I immediately dropped the gun. It clattered to the floor and I stepped over to where he'd collapsed. Blood covered a large portion of his white shirt now. A pang of something slammed me hard in the chest and it forced loose a wave of guilty, regret ridden tears.

I dropped to my knees, suddenly panicked and unsure. My whole body was trembling now. "A-Alison...the p-paper," he did his best to aim a finger straight ahead of his view, toward where he was standing, and I turned to look. Sure enough, there was a folded square of paper a few feet away. I moved over and reached across him. I grabbed the paper and quickly sat back down. "...read i-it...later. It's f-for Chase."

The guilty parts of me made me stuff the note away in my pocket and press my hands to the wound; try to stop it from bleeding. I knew it was no use deep down. But at the time it was the right thing to do. There was a thin line of blood from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were starting to look glossed over. "I need you to answer me, okay? Don't you dare lie to me," I hovered over him. "If you didn't want to kill me, why did you try?"

"F-" He coughed hoarsely, spitting blood on the floor. "-Fisk...he t-told me to kill you, or he would do it h-himself."

"Don't lie..." I shook my head, the words only making me feel even worse.

"It's the t-t-truth, Alison, I s-swear." He looked into my eyes, pleading for me to believe him. He was desperate now. Trying to get me to say I believe him. I didn't know if I did before, but I sure did now. A sickening came to my stomach and I wanted to retch as the weight of what I'd done finally hit me full in the chest. "Don't go," I could hardly see through the tears spilling out of my eyes. "Don't- don't leave me again, please."

"I'm s-so sorry...I n-never wanted to h-hurt you," he said, speaking as quickly as he could, anticipating the end coming. "T-tell Chase who I w-was...and that I l-loved him...p-please, Alison..." Before I could say anything, his body fell still and his head lolled to the side a bit, limp. His eyes remained open, glossed over and empty. I sobbed lightly once and covered my mouth with the back of my wrist. I'd wanted him gone for so long.

I'd even wanted him dead at times. But never like this. My chest physically hurt. The sobbing was so deep in my ribs that it was making it difficult to breathe. I was choking on the air trapped in my throat, and there was no way I could even attempt to see through the hazy fog of my own tears. I pulled my knees up to my chest and nestled my face atop my knee caps. I had to bite my wrist to keep from screaming.

My hands were coated in blood. Warm, sticky, crimson blood. James's blood. Blood that's literally and metaphorically on my hands. An unnecessary loss, because I was too stubborn to accept that maybe I was truly wrong about him. I couldn't look anywhere near his direction. I just couldn't stomach it. My mistake cost him his life. All when he'd altered his life just to protect mine. He was so sure Fisk was after me. I'd never seen him so paranoid.

Never—not now, not when we were dating. Now I'll never see anything on his face ever again. Somewhere inside me I did believe him. I did still love him all those years I was raising Chase alone. The little girl in me was hoping it was all a dream and my white knight would still sweep me off my feet. No one could save me from this. No one could ever make this right. Suddenly a thought hit me. Fisk.

If Fisk ever found out that I killed his right hand man...the thought nearly stopped my heart from beating. With myself out of the equation, now I have to focus on protecting my son. Fisk cannot find out I killed James. Not if I want to live to see Chase's eleventh birthday. I felt for my cell phone. My pocket was empty. I must have left it at the building. I had to act quickly.

I moved onto my knees and I scooted a few inches so that I was next to the body. The thought of this made me want to throw up again, but I swallowed it down, and reached into his suit jacket pocket. My fingers groped the fabric, digging around, until they hit something hard. A cell phone. I pulled it free from the pocket and flipped it over to see the screen. It lit up. Four missed calls from Fisk.

I wiped my right hand off on my jeans, smearing blood across the thigh, and opened the keypad. I typed in Dani's number and quickly held the phone to my ear. It rang twice before going to voicemail. My heart leapt. "Come on," I whined, desperate. I quickly redialed and held the phone back up to my ear. "Answer...please, answer the phone."

Finally, the ringing went all the way through. She answered on the fourth ring. "Hello?" Her voice was worn, tired, like she already knew who it was. Because she thought she did. My voice came out a little more panicked than I would've liked, but I kept it to a bare minimum of one sniffle. "Dani, it's Alison. Are you alone?" I asked, looking anywhere but at James's body.

"Um...no...?" she sounded baffled.

"Okay, I'll text you, hold on." I hung up the phone and reopened the key pad. I typed as fast as I could with the smallest amount of incorrect spellings as possible. I explained what happened and told her a rough estimate of where I might be, and then sent the message. I looked at Wesley. Guilt swelled up in my stomach. Hesitantly, I reached over and gently swiped his eyelids down before quickly pulling my hand back.

His body was still warm. I was on the verge of crying again when a ding from the phone caught my attention. I looked down. Dani replied. She was coming to find me. I was supposed to 'stay put' and wait for her to get here. There was no way my legs could carry me anywhere right now anyway.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I opened the text and froze. She did what?! Oh my goodness, this is NOT good! I shoot up to a sitting position and swing my legs off the bed, tossing the covers. My fingers start going crazy typing a reply. "She okay?" I hear Matt's voice and nearly jumped. I was so focused on Alison I almost forgot where I was. But there's no way he can know about this. Talk about a moral compass…his would shatter if he knew. I don't even really know much yet, so this needs to stay a secret from him.

I sighed, simultaneously slowing my heart rate and steadying it. "Foggy cheating on her finally set in. I'm gonna head over there." It was the perfect cover, and partly true. This is about a guy, just not that one. I glanced at him and he nodded, trying to stay awake. "I'll have my phone with me if you need anything." I quickly changed into jeans and a plain t-shirt. At the last second I tossed on a ball cap, then left.

I trotted down the stairs as I pulled out my phone. I dialed Mary's number. She picked up on nearly the last ring. "Are you okay?" she asked.

I sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for the early, or late, call. I need a favor."

"Okay…?"

"I need you to run a trace for me." I waited till she was ready and then rattled off the number as I exited Matt's building. I saw my reflection in a car window and realized I forgot to put my dark brown wig on. Dang it. Oh well. I don't have time to go back. I walked to my building to pick up my car, while sending Mary a list of things to gather for me. By the time I put my butt in the front seat, she had an address for me. She put the duffle bag full of supplies through the window of the passenger door and on the seat.

"Thanks, Mare." She simply nodded. She knows if I'm not telling her what's going on, that it's one of two things: I'm in trouble…or I'm back with S.H.I.E.L.D. I decide to let her decide. I'll explain later. I threw it in drive and I was gone. I got turned around once, but eventually made it there.

I killed the car and then opened the glove box. I know Alison said she was alone, but you can't be too careful. Apparently that's why she bought _her_ gun. I grabbed the handle of my cross bow and pulled it out. The arms sprung forward and it was ready to be fired. I closed the glove box and then got out of the car. I walked inside the building, not too sure what I'd find.

I was in a long hallway. I walked to the end, on guard. The left side continued into a wall, so I turned right. In the middle of the room was a table and two chairs. Alison sat on the floor, her knees in her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Wesley's body a few feet away. I did a quick glance around the room and then lowered the crossbow to my side.

Alison looked up at me. She was rocking back and forth, a horror stricken look on her face like she'd done more than just see a ghost. Like she was one. I dropped my bag on the ground and tossed the crossbow on top of it. Tear marks stained her face, and I could see the blood on her hands. She had stopped crying, looking at me. We stared at each other a few seconds. Then she broke down. She bought the back of her wrist to her mouth and started balling.

"Oh, Alison…" I walked over to her and got down. She clung to me before I was half way to the ground. I hugged her back as her sobs racked her body. She felt like an earthquake. Of course, we all have at one point. After ten minutes I pulled back. "Alison." She looked up at me. "We need to get out of here before people come looking." She nodded quickly, trying to regain what was left of her composer...which, I think, is nothing. I helped her stand.

She looked over at Wesley and then quickly regretted it, turning away and cringing. "I'll take care of it."

"How?" she spat, probably angry with herself. "Why are you so calm? I…I killed someone. I just killed the father of my son, a man I still love, all because I-" she stopped and sucked in a breath. She let it out and I could hear it's shakiness. "I didn't believe him."

"I know, Alison. None of us wanted to believe him. What he was saying…it was a hard pill to swallow. Especially for you, after what he put you threw. Whether it was to protect you or not, what he did still stung. And you acted like any normal person. Like a girl who got her heart broken." My shoulders dropped. I turned and looked down at Wesley. There was only silence for a few seconds. "Why don't you wait in the car?"

"What are you going to do? How is he not going to find me? What if Fisk already knows it was me?"

"Calm down." I put my hands on her shoulders. "No one will EVER find out it was you. You hear me? No one will know. Not even me, I'll make myself forget." I tried to lighten the mood, but she didn't bite. I sighed and looked her in the eyes. "Do you trust me?" It's a simple question, yet whenever asked, causes the person to replay ever moment you've ever shared with them. And _everything's_ under scrutiny. She thought for a second and then nodded. "Then trust me when I say 'I'll take care of it. No one will ever know'."

"Not even Matt?" she asked. I slightly hesitated. In my mind I was cursing myself. We agreed to tell each other everything. To be honest, no lies. And look what I'm doing. I shook my head, "Not even Matt." She nodded and tried to wipe her tears. I looked down at her blood stained pants. And the stain on her hands. "Before you head down to the car, why don't you clean up? I have extra clothes and disinfectant towelettes and stuff." She nodded.

I went to my bag and retrieved the stuff for her. "What all did you touch?"

She looked around. "Just the chair…maybe the table?"

"Okay." I gave her the clothes and a sack to put the bloody ones in. "I hope you know you won't get those back."

"I don't want them," she spoke bitterly as she walked into the next room to change. I sighed, then looked around. I stood for a second and took it all in, and then I got to work. I bleached everything in sight, the table, the chair. I put the gun in a plastic bag and set it aside. I picked apart Wesley's suit looking for anything that might lead back to Alison, mainly her hair.

A few minutes later, Alison dropped the bag of bad clothes and then left. I did a more thorough job than I think I ever have in all my life. If it weren't for the body, people might not even think Wesley was ever here. I stood, after collecting the bullet from his chest, and stepped back. I sighed. With a job this clean, Fisk might think it was a hit. Which might help us out. Or…

My mind started going crazy. Could be a dispute or meeting that went wrong. I went to my bag and pulled out a Swiss army knife. I knock over the chairs and scattered them. I moved some things out of their places, making it look like a tussle. Then I got down next to Wesley. I wish this whole thing would've had a different ending. I really do.

I put the knife on his chest and then drove it into the small bullet hole. I pushed it in as far as it could. I then stabbed him in two other places before leaving the blade in his heart. I added the finishing touches by punching him a few times, ruffling his hair, tearing his suit slightly, and twisting his leg in an unnatural position. I stood and walked to my bag.

I gathered my things and stuffed them in the bag. I peeled off my gloves and tossed them in there, too. I stood and slung the bag over my shoulder, turning to take it all in. Make sure I had covered everything. I nod, satisfied. Then my eyes land on his glasses on the table. I walk over to the table and grab them. I walked halfway to the door, and then set then on the ground. I crushed them beneath my boot, before turning and leaving.

No one will ever know Alison was here. I've made sure of that.


	26. Mistakes and Missteps

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

After dropping Alison off at her place, I drove to mine. I went in through the roof access so I wouldn't wake Mary. I already did that once today. I walked to my bed and sigh. After what I did, I might as well have killed him. But it had to be done. No one will ever suspect Alison. She and Chase are safe. I think that makes what I did worth it. What I have to live with. Like I told her, no one can ever know. Not even Matt.

I sighed again and then headed for the shower. After, I dressed and threw on a dark colored wig. Maybe one of these days I'll just be blonde all the time. Or Angel will go dark. Either way, this hair thing is starting to annoy me. I tossed my old clothes on the washer and then put the duffel bag back where it goes. The gun is at the bottom of the river, the bullet is in a dumpster on third, and Alison's bloody clothes are burning at a homeless camp near the docks. I took care of everything.

Too bad I can't do the same for the memories. For both of us. I walked to my desk in the front room and sat. More like plopped, in a very defeated manner. That's how I feel: defeated. He was telling the truth the whole time. I had my suspicions, but never truly knew. And Alison never gave him a chance. Though, I don't blame her. But, he did _everything_ …for her. For Chase. To protect them from Fisk. The man we all thought was a villain died a hero, in my book.

I'm startled out of my thoughts by a soft knock on the door. I stand and hurry over to it. I open the door and find Matt. "Hi." I motion him in, closing the door behind him. I grab his hand and lead him to my bedroom, to put more distance between us and Mary's room. "What are doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," he said. "I was on my way to the law firm, but I thought I'd see if you were here. How'd it go with Alison?" I was already steadying my heart rate, expecting that question. But it was still hard not to break down and tell him everything. Oh, my goodness, how am I going to do this? This is the first time she's come up and I'm already struggling. I sighed.

"Uh…well, she's taking it pretty hard. I wouldn't be surprised if she locked herself in her apartment, for a day," I said. And, yeah, right now, she probably will. But, of course, for the wrong guy. "She just doesn't do well with break ups. She takes everything to heart. But, I'm glad I went over."

"Is she okay?"

"Uh…I think she is…? But, it'll just take time." I tried to sound sure of myself, like I knew exactly what I was talking about. Because I don't. A person like Alison doesn't just bounce back from something like that. This will change her forever. Once you've killed someone, in self-defense or not, you're never going to be the same. That's a sad truth that goes with war. A war that Fisk started. And now I want him dead more than ever.

I could do it right now. Dig out my old riffle, head down to his place, set up across the street. Wait till dawn. Make it messy. Blow his head off. That's what I want to do, I almost _need_ too. Someone's got to pay for this, and Fisk's a big enough target as any. I sigh and try to calm myself. My heart was starting to explode at the thought of Fisk exploding.

"Still going to the firm?" I asked and he nodded. "Mind if I tag along?"

"No," he shook his head. We headed out the door and down to my car. I decided driving was probably better, and he didn't protest. We got to the firm in a few minutes and then headed up the stairs. We walked up to the law firm door as it opened. Foggy stood in the doorway. He was clearly on his way out. And instantly I felt the tension. Foggy locked eyes on me. This is the first time he's seen me. He looked relieved, yet…I don't know, sorry for me?

I looked at Matt. "I'll be in in a minute." He nodded and then stepped into the law firm, past Foggy. The two barely looked at each other. Both Matt and Alison have told me about what went down between them. Foggy stepped out into the hall and closed the door. Though, that won't help. I'm sure Matt'll be listening. We stood in silence a minute.

"So how've you been?" he sounded defeated, too. "You look like-"

"I know," I offered a weak smile. "I feel like it, too." His eyes were locked on the scar on my face. I haven't covered it up. I'm forcing myself to get used to all the weird stares. It's not working. "Alison had said you were alive," he said. "But when the papers said different, I started to doubt it."

"Yeah, I'm not sure if I'm alive, either." I tried to keep eye contact, make him squirm as much as I could. I can't believe the way he acted. Yes, his best friend lied to him and he thought the other was dead. So what? I don't think most people sleep with their ex after that. "Look, I want to make something clear. I don't, honestly, care about what's going on with you and Matt, or what you thought or didn't think. But you cheated on Alison. In my book, you cheated on me, too. I mean…what were you thinking?"

"Look, I already got the third degree from Alison, and this really isn't any of your business."

"None of my business?" I scoffed and crossed my arms. "You hurt her, Foggy, which makes it my business. And, I don't care how many degrees you got from her, because you haven't gotten any from me."

"I don't want to argue with you about this-"

"Then don't. How about you shut up and listen? I don't care what you're reasoning's were or what you felt at the time—besides Marci. You royally blew it. Even after knowing Alison's history…her last boyfriend tried to kill her. Do you realize how hard it was for her to trust someone else like that?"

He opened his mouth and I shushed him. "No. I'm talking. And, she actually cared for you Foggy. She wasn't just a one night stand, like Marci." I saw the look on his face and became more enraged. "Oh," I do a slight airy chuckle, because I'm so mad. I mean, I am lived right now. "Wow, okay. I guess you really _didn't_ care about her. Because when you cheat, you're supposed to apologize, first. Which you haven't done, by the way, and needs to be done. Second, if YOU CARED…you would stop seeing Marci and try to make it up."

"Alison said it was over, that she didn't want to see me again."

"Let me guess, she told you that when she first caught you with your pants down?" He didn't have to answer. "You're dumb, Foggy. And VERY insensitive."

"Okay, we can talk about this later." He took a few steps away.

"No, we can't. You'll be _lucky_ if I see you again." He stopped and I walked up to him. "I thought you were better than that. I thought, 'of all the people, he won't let her down.' Look how wrong I was."

"So, _now_ you're going to tell me how disappointed you are?"

"No," I shook my head. I walked closer to him, putting my face in his. "Disappointed doesn't even begin to describe it, Foggy. After the night I've had…you're lucky you're walking out of here." I turned and left, walking into the law firm. I didn't look back, didn't say anything else. That was it. Had I stayed even one second longer…I might've hit him

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I didn't sleep. I don't think I moved at all in three hours. It didn't seem like it was that long, until I finally looked at the clock, and suddenly it was seven am. Suddenly I have to get decent enough to take Chase to school. Suddenly I have to get dressed for work. Life doesn't stop when a life is lost, I guess. Especially when no one knows it's been lost. So I peeled myself off the couch and shuffled into the bathroom.

Though, in the back of my mind, I doubted Dani's words. Nothing ever stays completely hidden for long. It all comes out eventually. The whole thing felt like a ticking time bomb, just counting down the seconds until it all exploded back in my face. I was stupid for thinking I could get out of that warehouse without dying. Because I think a part of me might have. I wasn't mind-bogglingly numb. There was no bone-crushing pain.

Right then, as I closed the bathroom door, my forehead dropped into the wood to lean against it. Right now, as I finally let my eyes close. It felt empty. Like every inch of me had been hollowed out with a spoon. And I don't think it was just depression talking when I thought I would never find my filling. It's gone. It doesn't want to come back. I don't _deserve_ for it to come back. I deserve a lot worse than this. I took in a breath and pushed off the door.

I moved over to the mirror and paused, seeing my reflection for the first time since around now yesterday. I looked awful. My hair was in shambles, pulling out of my ponytail in every which way. Purple bags lit up under my eyes. My eyes looked bloodshot, accompanying the pink, puffy cheeks below them. How am I supposed to cover up this? That thought made me glance down. My hands were still stained red.

A sudden jolt of anxiety hit my chest. It urged me to move, begged me to rid my hands of the blood. My skin crawled. I quickly hurried to the shower, pulling open the curtain before throwing on the hot water. I didn't hesitate to step under the steady stream clothes and all. I poured soap on my hands and began scrubbing, hard, until I all could see was foam. Yet no matter how hard I was scrubbing the blood stayed to some capacity.

There was a pink hue to my skin that was obviously not natural. So I scrubbed harder, using my finger nails to force it off. My chest felt too tight. Like I needed to loosen my own skin. Steam was starting to fill the tiny bathroom and my eyes stung. The stain was deep set. It wouldn't come off. I was desperate. I didn't even notice what I was doing to my hands until the water hit them, washing away the soap. I froze.

Scratches marred my hands on both sides, creating puckered pink lines that only made it look worse. But then it started to sting— _badly_. It felt like I'd just done it with a steak knife. My eyes were dry, but yet somehow they managed to push out tears, mixing with the shower water on my cheeks. My hands were trembling now, abused and raw, marred with a thousand little cuts. A sob forced its way out and I reached for the shower wall for support.

It didn't do much. My knees buckled and I slid to the tub floor in a wet, slightly bloody mess. How am I supposed to ever hide this? It won't even leave my hands. If Matt ever found out…I would lose him forever. There's no way he would forgive me for this. He would never look at me the same. Neither would Chase. That thought sobered me up a bit. I can't be here sobbing when he gets up. He'll already know something is off.

But he'll know something is really wrong when I'm still in the bathroom at seven forty when he wakes up for school. I took in a deep breath, let it back out, and did it again until I could stop the tears. _Come on, Alison, pull yourself together. Do it for Chase_. I climbed the shower wall, pulling myself up with my wobbling knees. My hands hurt terribly. But I worked through the pain to peel off my soaked clothes and leave them beside the tub.

Then I closed the curtain, and tried to act like I was taking a normal shower. I used twice as much shampoo as I normally would, and three times the amount of body soap, all in the hope that I wouldn't be blood-scented should I run in to Matt. A little more of the stain came off. My skin still looked pink and puckered around the white lines from my finger nails. There were ways past that. I could wear gloves. I could wear a long sleeved shirt. That's it.

I have a lot of long-sleeves that I barely use in my closet. I'll pull out one of those, maybe use some perfume? After ten years of bottling up your emotions, you learn how to shut them off. I did my best to do just that. I showered and dried my hair, put on fresh clothes and fixed my makeup, put on my shoes and started making breakfast. I was just putting pancakes on the table when Chase came from his bedroom.

He was dressed for school, his backpack in hand. I plastered on a smile. "Good morning, sweetie. How'd you sleep?" I asked, walking to him. I bent down and placed a kiss on the top of his head. All I could think of was what Wesley had said. _Tell Chase about me. Tell him I loved him_. "You made breakfast already?" he seemed shocked, looking up at me with round eyes.

I gave him a look, like he was being crazy. " _Of course_ I made breakfast already, I make breakfast every morning." I gestured for him to go sit at the table and he did it with little rebuttal. I watched him a moment as he tore through his pancakes. _You don't have to hide it forever_. _Just until he's old enough to understand what you've done to protect him_. What I've done to protect him…just like what Wesley did to protect me.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"You sure we should tell him?" I asked. We sat atop the metal roof of some warehouse.

"Yeah," the Mask nodded. "We can trust Urich to keep quiet. But he needs to know we're still fighting." I sighed. I don't think it's a good idea. But whatever. I'll play along. The whole point of this is that, with Nobu gone, his drugs are free for the taking. If Fisk took over, we can cut off some of his money. That'll be the cherry on the cake. By now I'm sure he knows about Wesley.

As usual, it's night. Easier for us to stay hidden. But mainly me. I was dressed as a normal person, jeans, sweatshirt, boots. My blonde hair was free flowing across my shoulders, capped off with a ball cap. Even if Urich found out who I was, he'd never think Matt was the Mask. Never. But he is a reporter, and reporters are crafty. They stick their nose where it doesn't belong. That's why we're here.

The only thing that would rat me out, and this goes for everyone, is the scar on my face. People see Angel with it, then Dani. Guess who just put two and two together. But, oh well. One day, someone will find out. The only question that remains is if Matt will be taking the fall with me.

Urich walked out of the building, finally, and to his car, away from us. The Mask jumped off the roof, landing by a dumpster. He grabbed his side and hissed. Urich turned around and saw him. "You like making an entrance, don't you?" Urich asked as the Mask took a few steps forward. I slid down the roof and onto the dumpster, then jumped onto the ground.

At first, Urich seemed startled. But as I walked closer and stood next to my partner, he started looking between us. Then he smiled and shook his head. "Should've known you two would pull a stunt like that."

"Actually, it almost wasn't a stunt," I said as his face slightly dropped. I hung back and tried not to let him see under my cap. "We need information," the Mask said. All business, as per stinking usually. Urich looked at the Mask.

"Haven't heard anything about a man in a mask beating on people," he said. "Thought maybe you quit on us. But since she's not dead, I take it that's not the case." He crossed his arms. "Somebody get a piece of you two?"

"We went the distance, it's all that matters."

"'Went the distance', huh? You sound like a boxer."

I smiled and the Mask chuckled. "Always a reporter." Well, good. We're all on good terms with each other. But, that's not why we came. I pulled one of the heroin packets out of my pocket and handed it to Urich. "What do you know about these?"

"All over the city. Heroin, pure like you've never seen. They call it 'Steel Serpent' on the streets." He gave it back. The symbol on this packet looks so familiar. Even the name sounds familiar, but I can't place it. Maybe something I heard in passing at S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Vladimir Ranskahov, before he died, said that Fisk arranged access to the Chinese and their drugs," I said. "The Russians are gone but the drugs aren't. Someone picked up distribution."

"You think Fisk picked up distribution? Disrupting his cash flow won't stop him."

"No, but it'll knock him off balance. Get him mad, maybe enough to make a mistake big enough to matter," the Mask said. Urich thought for a minute.

"I've got something I'm working on, might help push him over the edge."

"No, I want you to keep your head down until this is over."

"My head's fine where it's at."

"Really?" I said. "Vladimir's brother had the same idea."

"Point taken," he nodded.

"I heard rumors the Chinese were being run by a woman. Got a name?"

"No, you would've read about it."

"That Russian that Blake shot in interrogation," the Mask said, "there was a Chinese man in the back of his cab in an alley." Funny. I don't remember that mission. When did that happen? "Blind, carried a backpack."

"I've seen those guys around town. Would make sense. Nobody'd look at a blind man twice," Urich said. How VERY true. If only he knew. I really had to keep my mouth shut on that one.

"I know I don't," I cleared my throat. "Where've you seen them?"

"51st and 9th. No…10th. 51st and 10th. But that was a while back." He leaned back against his car. "How's this going to work with you two?" He looked at me. "Fisk thinks you're dead. You could just skip town."

"That's not my style," I said.

"Then what is? You both look horrible, and something needs to be done about your outfits."

"We're working on that part," the Mask said.

"There are too many people I care about here to leave. And even then, I might stay. Tyrants like Fisk shouldn't rule," I said.

"Then stay out of sight," Urich said. "I've only seen them during the day." He looked at the Mask. "So, you might want to go alone. Either way, you'll stick out."

"I'll dress down," he said.

"What?" I joked. "You think punching people is all we do?" They chuckled. "I'll tell you what, though. We keep them plastic surgeons employed. See? We can do this, we're already multitasking. Taking down Fisk while lowering unemployment." I started walking away as they chuckled.

I heard the Mask say, "Watch your back, Ben. Fisk is an animal…and we're backing him into a corner." I heard him follow me. Then I heard Urich's reply and laughed, "Yeah, I'd watch out for her if I were you."

I turned around, walking backwards. "You have no idea."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Ben poured whiskey into three glasses on his coffee table. "Been trying to find a second source. There's a guy…who knew Rigolette back in the day…relocated to Florida," he started, glancing up at Karen. She decided to stand, whereas I opted to sit. It was always easier to hide what you're feeling when you can sink into cushions. Don't ask me how I know. "Just waiting to hear back."

He handed Karen a glass, then held the next one out for me. Honestly I couldn't think of a better idea right then. I took the glass with a small smile and took a deep swig. "What does that have to do with…It isn't about who he owed money to," Karen tried for the right words, hesitant.

Ben turned to her. "It's a connection. Bill Fisk owed money to Rigoletto. My source remembers anything about that- it's a piece of her story we can prove. From there-"

"There isn't going to be a 'from there' if we don't do something right now," Karen pressed.

I sat forward, rolling my glass in my hands. "What exactly do you think we can do, Karen? We work at a newspaper not Buckingham Palace." She looked disappointed, but nodded and sat on the arm of one of Ben's living room chairs. Silence filled the space between the three of us. I only came here tonight because Karen said it was important—and to get out of the house. Now it was seeming more pointless by the minute.

I took another drink from my glass and Karen stood. Here we go. "No, no- look, we need that story out there before it's too late," she urged, desperate. "Isn't there something you can do—either of you?" She looked between Ben and me, and I sighed. "Just post it yourself online," I suggested, short. "You don't need either of us."

"And who'll believe me when they start digging, huh? When they find…what Ben found, when he was looking into me." She became more deflated the closer her sentence was to ending. I never looked in Karen's file. Ben told me he had it, suggested I read it, but I never did. It wasn't my job to go digging around in her past. Nor was it Ben's—but he just couldn't help himself.

Ben sighed. "I'll see if I can shake loose any other sources. Write up what I've got tomorrow, give it to my editor. See what happens."

"No, Ben, bad idea," I shook my head, standing. "You know Ellison. He'll make you _burn_ whatever you have. It'll never make it to print without credible _facts_ and _sources_. You and I both know there's nothing else to find on this."

Karen frowned. "What are you saying, Alison?"

"I'm saying this is a witch hunt!" I threw my arms out at my sides, exasperated. "You expect us to wave our magic wands and somehow pull information that doesn't exist out of our butts!"

"That's not fair," she shook her head, crossing her arms.

I narrowed my eyes. My blood was boiling. " _Not fair_? What do you know about _not fair_ , Karen? Guess what—news flash! We're not _magicians_. And we're not invincible. The more we look into this, the more we're all on Fisk's hit list. _Ben_ and _I_ are gonna be the ones getting burned if this goes wrong- did you ever stop to think about _that_ , Barbie?"

"Okay," Ben let out a long, heavy sigh. He looked at me and I knew he was politely telling me to shut up. But something behind his eyes looked knowing, sympathetic. Like he got why I was saying it. I just shouldn't say it. Karen looked hurt and mortified at the same time. "We all agreed to do this together— _knowing_ the costs. You can pull out of this at any time, Alison."

I inhaled. I should pull out. I should just say _no way José_ and go home to my son. Keep myself _and_ Chase extremely safe—especially after last night. But I didn't want Ben to be doing this stupid thing, going out and risking his life. So if you can't beat him, join him. _Him,_ not Karen. I can't stand Karen right now. I squared my shoulders and shook my head, folding my arms loosely. "No. I'm staying."

"Good. Well, you might want to buckle up. Things are about to get a little hairy."


	27. Kung Pou

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

My first potential client in, like, forever…throws paper in my face and storms out of the office. Nough said. I sighed, crossed my arms on my desk and then laid my head on them. This is ridiculous! What is wrong with me? It's like I only have room for one version of me. At least, that's all that can go right. And even that didn't go right. Of course, for me, if I almost die I must be doing something right.

But the bills are piling up and people in the building need things fixed. Which I can't afford to do! Mary's the one literally keeping the lights on. But then that leaves, let's see….zero amount of food on the table. Maybe I should find a corner. I think I know a few good ones. The front door opened and I looked up. I see the red head from level two and sigh. I sit up and straighten my clothes. "What can I do for you, today, Amy?"

"Have you gotten a new repair man, yet?" she snapped. Someone's always peed in her cheerios by the time she finds me. Though I think she was born pushy. "My freezer only works half the time, the washer and dryer are still out, and the cable doesn't work."

"Okay. For the cable, you'll want to call your cable provider. They might be able to send someone out-"

"I'm not in the mood for your attitude, today. I want these things fixed."

"Yes, I know, and I'm working on it. You're not the only one in the building."

"I know. Others have complained, too. All the appliances around here are breaking."

"Yes, but the others understand the situation and-"

"I don't care what the others are saying. I want my things fixed by the end of the week, or I'm leaving."

I opened one of my desk drawers and pulled out a paper. I sat it down and then filled in a few things. When I was done I stood and handed it to her. "Here you go. The solution to all our problems."

"What is this?" she snapped.

"Why don't you read it? That is why I gave it to you." I rolled my eyes. "If the repairs are not complete by the end of the week, you'll have thirty days to gather your things and be out. And I can almost guarantee you they won't, so I'd start looking for a new place."

"You can't do this to me. I have rights-"

"And had you read our rental agreement before signing, you'd know what they were," I said as the door opened and Matt walked in. "This is perfectly legal." She began to protest. So I spoke over her. "If I have to have you removed from the premises by local law enforcement, your chances of wining said lawsuit, should you take any legal action, are very slim. If you leave peacefully of your own accord, the chances of you finding somewhere else will be greater. No one wants a tenet that might sue."

She huffed and crossed her arms, finally shutting up. "Like I've said before," I continued. "I don't control your cable, your cable provider does. I've had people fix and replace your fridge seven times. As for the washer and dryer, which have also been replaced twice, better parenting would fix that." She looked up at me, horror stricken. "Yes, I know that your son's been braking the appliances. Things that I pay for, not you. Which would also help me, if you sought legal action. And I strongly advise against it."

She huffed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I let out a long breath of air and I plopped in my chair. Matt walked up to the desk with a big grin on his face. "What?" I asked, his smile getting bigger. "You hear the whole thing?"

"Yeah," he said, folding his cane. "Never heard you so…fierce before." I can tell he's teasing but I decide to ignore it.

"Well, good riddance to her. Worst two years of my life," I sighed and Matt laughed. I dropped my elbows on my desk. I spaced out on the desk for a moment, then looked up. "You're bleeding."

"That bad, huh?" he looked down and felt for the blood.

"It's soaked through your jacket." I stood and walked around the desk. "I thought we agreed," I shouted over my shoulder as I head to the bathroom for the med bag, "the only way you were going alone was if you took it easy." I grabbed the bag and headed back. "This is not taking it easy." I pointed to the couch. "Sit." He did as I said as I walked to the door. I turned the lock and then sat down next to Matt.

"Well," he said unbuttoning his shirt, "you'll be happy to know, I found them." I tossed his jacket on the table, followed by his shirt and tie. I moved in front of him, sitting on the table. I mopped up the blood and then pressed the towel to the wound a minute. He hissed. "There at a warehouse across town."

"So they are using blind Chinese guys to transport drugs," he was nodding before I had finished. "Wonderful." I removed the towel and was able to more clearly see the wound. "You pulled a couple stitches." I looked at him. "What were you doing, using New York as your personal jungle gym? You're not Tarzan you know."

He chuckled. "I know." I threaded a needle and then went to work. I'm not as good as Alison, my stitches don't look textbook. But my stitches will keep you alive. And, I'm pretty sure, that's what's most important. "I'll be more careful next time."

"You better," I finished the second stitching and then sat up. I dug in the bag until I found a big enough gauze pad. "You should take another day off. Especially if you plan on raiding the Chinese, tonight."

"Yeah." He pulled out his phone and called Karen. He explained that he needed one more day. Sounds like she was fine with it. And it sounds like Foggy's in the wind. Shocker. I said some tough things to him. But he deserved it, so. I finished with his wound, grabbed the bag, and then put it back. While in my room, I snagged a suit jacket and shirt.

I walked back out into the main room as Matt finished his phone call. "Here you go," I handed him the clothes. "No way are you walking home in those things without turning heads. These were Clint's, they should fit you."

"Thank you." He stood and slid the shirt on as Elizabeth started crying in the next room. I started walked toward her. "Oh, and I'm babysitting 'till eight." I walked into Mary's room and picked her up out of her bed. She was in pink fuzzy pj's with purple hearts on them. I grabbed her stuffed elephant and then walked back out.

Matt was now fully dressed and looked like nothing ever happened. "You're not going." He said it like I should've known. And I do. And I don't care.

"We agreed you'd go, by yourself, and find where they're distribution center was-"

"Right. And I did. But we also said we'd go from there…talk about the rest later. Which, we're doing."

"Matt…" I sighed, adjusting Lizzie.

"It was your idea to fake Angel's death. We need to follow it through. If someone catches sight of you and it gets back to Fisk-"

"I know." I sighed again. We both went quiet while I thought. I glanced up at him. I don't think he's backing down on this. And, if he goes alone, I know for a fact he won't give me the address. Mainly because he knows I'll go anyway. I exhaled. "Okay." I thought. "Okay, here's what we'll do. We'll compromise. I'll go, but not as Angel." Before he could protest I continued with my idea/how we're going to do it. "I have a different outfit I can wear, and my hair will be brown not blonde."

He sighed and put his hands on his hips. "What outfit?"

"It was my S.H.I.E.L.D. mission suit," I said. "And, I won't use the bow." He sighed, clearly debating it. After a few seconds, he nodded, "Okay."

"Good, then it's settled." Lizzie saw the elephant and reached for it, nearly toppling out of my hands. "Okay, here." I righted her and then gave her the elephant. She instantly stuck the trunk in her mouth. "She's obsessed with this elephant. Apparently, she's gotten into the habit of chewing on the trunk, and rejecting the binkies." She continued chewing the trunk, but she was eyeing Matt. He walked up to us, straightening his tie. After a few seconds, she started squirming again.

I sighed and tried to right her, but she wouldn't. Then, I realized what she wanted. I loosened my grip and let her move. She was reaching away from me and toward Matt. "She wants you, bad." She stretched far enough to grab his coat. And that was it. Once something gets locked in her hand…it's never coming out. Ever. She continued until she was in Matt's arms. "That is so weird. Have you ever held her before?"

"Once. While you were gone," he said. She tossed the elephant and went for his glasses. "No, Elizabeth."

I quickly bent down to grab the toy. When I did…I heard a sound I've heard a thousand times. And nothing good can ever come out of it. I cringed and stood. Sure enough. It looked like a bird had pooped on Matt's shoulder and down his front. I sighed. "I have another suit."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Today was the day. Ben just passed my cubical to give Ellison the story five minutes ago. So I sat there at my desk waiting, tapping my toes. It was taking too long. Maybe it was going well? No. Not with Ellison. It was most likely going very, very bad. And, as if confirming my worst fear, Ellison walked by the cubical with Ben on his heels, not looking too pleased. "I'm not having this conversation with you," Ellison said.

"Yes, you are, you're right in the middle of having it with me," Ben pressed. Great. I quickly stood and left my cubical, moving to the open desk closer to where they were headed. A few other employees were watching as well, right along with me. "I heard my son play Brahms today, in front of the entire school," Ellison said, turning to face Ben. "One of the greatest moments of my life. I read the story you handed me—the exact opposite."

Ellison started walking away, but Ben followed. I moved up another desk. I tried to look casually. But I think it was obvious what I was doing. "This could expose Fisk," Ben argued. They walked into a back middle office and Ellison turned to face him again. "All this is gonna do is expose this paper to a law suit," he said. I kind of agree with that one. "I mean, there is no follow-up, no corroboration."

"You read what his mother said, about what he did when he was a kid?" Ben asked, unbelieving.

Ellison made a face. "She's a sick old lady. She probably thinks Nixon's still in office."

"Run the article. It'll sell papers, it's sexy," Ben continued to push it. My heart was up in my throat, pounding in my ears. Come on, Ellison. _Run the paper_. "You sound like a whore," Ellison wrinkled his nose. And there goes that hope. I pretended to be readying files to shred by the paper shredder, all the while only really paying attention to the argument. "Well, I learned how to be one from you," Ben spat back, calmly.

The whole office was staring now. Ben, what have you done? "I get lucky sometimes, sure," Ben continued. "Land a story that makes a difference, like Union Allied. But most of the time, now, working for this paper…I might as well be wearing lipstick and a red dress."

Ellison didn't look pleased at all. Downright disgruntled. "Take the rest of the week. You're suspended," he said, professional sounding, before turning to leave. Inwardly, I was hoping—praying, even—that Ben would just cut his losses and stop while he was behind. But he held up the file and tried to follow Ellison again. "Look- just take another look at it. Fisk is leaving a trail of bodies, and if we don't stop it-"

"Wilson Fisk is spending millions of dollars trying to save this city. Maybe you should drop the Woodward and Bernstein, try writing a story about that."

Ben sighed. "How much is he paying you? Ever since Union Allied, I can't get a story that's about what's really happened in this city to print. So, how much is Fisk paying you to keep it that way?"

"The reason that you can't get any of your crime pieces into the paper lately is because they're _stupid_ , Ben," Ellison defended, keeping his chin up. "Just like that one. And I think, deep down, you know that, too. You know what, forget about the suspension. Clear out your office. I'm done trying to help you." As Ellison walked away, the whispers started in full force around the office.

My shoulders dropped, disappointed. Mostly because Ben just lost his job for that stupid article. Call it what you will, he didn't deserve to get _fired_ over it. I stepped around the paper shredder desk and walked over to Ben, where he stood in mild shock. I put my hand on his shoulder and he gave me a small but sad smile. "It was worth a shot, right?" he shrugged.

"You'll always be the hero to me, Ben," I smiled lightly.

His smile got a little brighter. "Someone had to be the Batman to your Catwoman. I guess I was just lucky enough to tag along for the ride."

"Oh, now we're partners in crime, huh? Not just front page articles? Chase will like that."

After work, I had another long list of appointments at the building. Handymen coming and going practically all day. Especially since I was only working half days at the Bulletin. That meant there was more time for this kind of thing. The downstairs has been my main concern this whole time. But finally someone was coming to put in a new sink I bought for the kitchen. The old one was fine I guess but this new sink matched the rest of the house.

It may still be a junk heap, but it's a _matching_ and _color savvy_ junk heap. I parked along the sidewalk just out front and cut the engine. Chase was itching to go in the backseat, practically throwing himself out the door. I sighed and slid out, shutting my door behind me. I went around the back of the car so I could shut Chase's door on my way. As I got to the sidewalk, Chase was bouncing in place by the front door. "Come on, mom!"

"What's got _you_ so excited?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I pulled my keys out. It was always a battle with this thing. You slid the key in, lift the knob up and to the right, and then turn the key around in the key hole in a complete three-sixty. Then it unlocks. After you give the door a good shove with your shoulder. While I fiddled, Chase was still bouncing. "I wANnA SeE mY ROoM!" he replied, his jumping altering his words.

I couldn't help but laugh a little. Finally, I was able to get the door open, and he took off like a rocket up the stairs. "Be careful! I don't want you tripping on the uneven boards!" I called after him, closing the door behind me. I headed to the front counter as I heard a faint, "I won't!" from upstairs. I dropped my keys and purse on the counter and pulled off my jacket, draping it beside my keys. The long sleeve shirt idea was working great.

The sleeve ends pooled at my wrist, giving me plenty of extra fabric to cover my hands if needed. But it didn't quite change that nagging sickening to my stomach. I decided it was just best to keep myself busy. The next handyman—an exterminator—was coming in a half hour to investigate the strange smell in the downstairs pantry/closet area. But there were several boxes in there from the last owners so I would have to clear those out first.

I went into the closet area. It took me a moment to find the light switch. I flipped it on, the light buzzed, then the bulb burst. Glass shot out in every which direction and I shrieked in surprise, quickly ducking out of the closet. Great. I'll have to add repairing that light fixture to my never ending list of things to do around here. The incident didn't help with my already shot nerves, edging on border line anxiety now, but I moved back in.

I stepped around the glass as best as I could to start hefting boxes out. I wrapped my arms around a box and heaved it up, then something light colored a furry blurred past me further into the closet. I lurched back—shrieking just a little louder this time—and dropped the box. Something inside it shattered and I cringed. My heart was up in my throat. Footsteps pattered across the ceiling and then started thumping down the stairs.

"Mom! Are you okay?" Chase hurried to the doorway to the closet and I waved him back. He raised an eyebrow, but stayed. "I'm fine, just…stay right there. I think we have a guest," I told him, turning back to face the closet. That seemed to only excite him. He was bursting with hyper curiosity. "Oooh what is it?" he exclaimed.

"I don't know." I carefully nudged a box out of the way with my foot, staying as far away as possible. It revealed round, wide green eyes and a bushy tail twitching along the side of the boxes. "A KITTY!" Chase said, excitedly. The cat immediately backed up a step and hissed. Chase went quiet, staring at the cat. It was orange with some dark stripes here and there. Its long fur was matted and smudged with dirt.

Some dirt smeared right across his once pink nose. He was obviously a stray. This building was probably his home long before it was ours. "It's okay; let's just stay really quiet, alright? He's just scared," I assured Chase. "He probably didn't expect us to be in here right now." Chase nodded and I turned back to the cat. I took a slow step forward, outstretching my hand palm flat.

"Here kitty-kitty…nice kitty…please don't bite me…." The cat didn't seem to care when I finally got near the box he sat on. I carefully ran my hands along his back, starting at his head, and he leaned into the touch, standing. He didn't look to be that old but he definitely wasn't a kitten. Cautiously, I scooped him up in my arms. He rubbed the top of his head on my chin and Chase laughed. "He likes you!" he smiled. "Can we keep him?"

I gave him a look and he clasped his hands together, his eyes looking into mine pleadingly. "Please, mom? PLEASE?" He elongated the second please for at least a good sixty seconds. Was this thing the most adorable cat I'd ever seen? Yes. Did I want to keep him—scooping litter boxes every day, adding animal expenses to my weekly bills, having yet another living thing relying on me? Not entirely.

"I'll take care of him! I'll clean the litter box, I'll feed him-"

"He's going to need a lot of cleaning up first," I intervened.

His eyes brightened. "I can wash him!"

"Um, I don't think so, mister," I started shaking my head. "You are not washing this cat by yourself."

"Dani can help me! I know she'll do it! PLEASE MOM LET ME KEEP HIM!" He was practically on his knees now, actually begging. I rubbed behind the cat's ears and he started purring, this almost metallic humming sound. This was not smart. But, on the other hand, Chase has never had any pets. I could never afford them and we were always moving. Not every place would allow pets. Now we own this building. I can decide.

I sighed. "Alright, we can keep him."

Chase jumped up in the air with a holler and the cat startled, staring at him with wide eyes. "Yayayayayayayayayay," Chase rambled, excitedly. He hurried to me and took the cat from my arms. "Can I name him, mom?"

"Go nuts," I laughed.

"YES! I'm calling him Rueben!" he exclaimed. Then, quietly as he caressed the cat's fur, he whispered, "After the sandwich."

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

Mary didn't get home until around nine. By then I was highly frustrated. I wanted to be gone by now. "She's all yours," I said as she walked in, throwing baby toys in the air. I quickly stood and made my way to my room. "I'm going out," I hollered. "I've got a case that might pan out." I quickly changed into uniform. It's not much better than what Matt wares, but it's something.

Thick black tights that go down into black army boots, long sleeve hooded shirt with thumb holes. I topped it off with Clint's bullet proof vest with the purple symbol on the front. He left it by mistake, so I figured I'd borrow it. I skipped the glasses and instead painted on a black mask. I wore deep purple lipstick and let my brown wig hair flow across my shoulders, freely. I slipped on a pair of black leather gloves as I walked to the mirror.

Yeah...I'm so not Angel tonight. This is, like, the total opposite. I scratched at the wig. I'm going to have to remember it's a fake so it doesn't come off during a fight. I took one last look in the mirror and nodded. Dark. But, I like it. I could see this growing on me, becoming a thing. Oh, well. Maybe someday.

I loaded up on knives, one gun (with rubber bullets. Boring, I know), and the grappling hook. I said goodbye to Mary and then bolted. It's after nine and I'm late. Matt had given me the address and I was supposed to meet him there. Of course, I made him promise it was the _right_ one and not a fake. Fool me once…

I went as fast as I could, and I think I did pretty well considering I'm only at about 75 percent. About twenty minutes later, I found the Mask where he said he'd be. Thank goodness. "So, what do I call you?" he smiled as I approached.

"Good question," I replied. I thought for a second, then sighed. I've already got the suit. Might as well use the codename. "Shadow." It felt good to say it. Like old times. "Ready?" He nodded and then led the way. "Don't tell me we're _actually_ using the front door?" But that's exactly what we did.

He knocked on the door with a series of knocks he'd heard when he came here this morning. It took a second, but then the door opened. I was a little shocked it worked. As soon as he saw the guy, he pulled him through the door and then knocked him out. I opened the door. "After you." He walked through and then I followed. I shut the door, locking it behind us.

We lurked in the shadows a second, approaching a guard. The Mask took this guy, sneaking up behind him and dragging him into the dark. A few punches later, and another guy comes walking over, calling for the other guy. Unfortunately, Chinese was one language I skipped. The guy got closer, looking for his friend. As soon as he was close enough, I grabbed him.

I disarmed him, tossing the gun to the side, and then jabbed him with my elbow in the gut a few times. I took a step back before jumping, swinging my leg, and connecting my heel with his head. He dropped to the floor, I'm assuming unconscious. I can't see anything in the dark. Unlike some people…

I looked up, out into the rest of the warehouse. A bunch of Chinese people stood around tables, clearly on a mission. They were packing the drugs. I stepped out of the shadows and into the warehouse. I walked down the main aisle. None of them cared. They were all blind. What is going on here? They're purposely blinding people? The Mask walked up behind me, just as confused. Well, this is great. Oh, well. We need to find the chick that's running this freak show.

I heard a woman start yelling in Chinese, and I knew it couldn't mean anything good. The people started moving as I grabbed the Mask's wrist. I pulled him in the opposite direction, running toward the back of the warehouse. We just barely escaped those peoples' grasp. At least they didn't follow us. "I think that was the woman in charge," I said, out of breath.

"Me, too." His head snapped to his right. "This way." He took off and I followed. We ran around a few stacks of crates, to the far back. The Mask stopped, pushing me back slightly before climbing a stack of crates. What is he doing? Then I heard the shuffling of footsteps. I stepped back, deeper into the shadow of the crates, next to some barrels. The sound got closer and closer.

One of them was talking. The others weren't replying, so he was probably on a cell. An old woman walked past, seconds before I say two men with guns. That must be her. The Mask attacked, jumping on the guy closest. I slipped out a knife as the other guy started shooting the floor. I mean really? The floor? She has time to blind all her employees, but can't take the time to teach her men to shoot?

I threw the knife at the guy's gun as I ran toward him. The gun clattered to the floor as I dug my boot in the side of a crate. I pushed off of it, spun and kicked the guy into another crate. He slumped to the ground as I landed. I rolled and then sprung to my feet. A few stray bullets had hit the barrels I was standing next to. They instantly burst into a wall of flames.

The Mask and I turned and looked at the old Chinese woman. Then he stepped closer. "All those people…you took their eyes."

"No," the woman spoke almost instantly, with a voice as old as she was. "They blinded themselves."

"Why would anyone do that?" I asked, stepping up beside the Mask. She eyed me for a second. Then, my eyes locked on hers. I don't like what I'm seeing. They say the eyes are the window to your soul. For some…that's truer than others. "Because they have faith," she said. "In something beyond the distractions of your world. You have taken that from them. Now, they will have nothing."

She looked between us and then landed on the Mask. "I see you found a new partner. Maybe the rumors are true." I quickly looked at him. I am like the sourest subject anyone can bring up. His jaw clenched as he started walking toward her. "You're gonna tell me about Fisk," he said.

She spun on her heel, thrusting the palm of her hand into his chest. He was flying past me before I knew what was going on. He slid across the floor as I pulled out another knife. The woman was walking away. I pulled back the knife and then swung, twisting at the end. It spun threw the air, slamming into her cane as she rounded the corner. Her cane went flying, but she was gone.

I ran to where she'd turned and looked down the aisle. She was gone. I sighed, picking up my knife. I walked back and stood next to the Mask. He was still on the ground, moaning. "Well, that went well," I said. He propped himself up on his elbows. He spit out a wad of blood and then looked up at me. His attempt at a glare.

I smirked as the burning barrels exploded, spewing more flames. "We need to go." I reached a hand down and he took it. I helped him up and then we quickly made our way to the front of the building. All of the blind Chinese slaves, basically, were completely oblivious to the bon fire in the back.

We walked around them and toward the door. The guy I had knocked out was coming, too. He started reaching for his gun as the Mask walked up to him and stepped on his arm, pinning it. I jumped and turned around as pieces of the roof started falling. Balls of fire hit the ground, causing people to scream. I looked up at the ceiling, just in time to see a piece headed my way.

I lunged to the side and rolled, just missing it. It crashed behind me as gun shots rang out. Then the sprinklers turned on and started watering the heroin. I looked up and found that the owner of the gun was the Mask. He, of course, was aiming blind (pun intended). He held the trigger until the clip was empty, then tossed the gun. He pulled the guy to his feet and said, "Get these people out of here."

He tossed the guy toward the mass of people, and then headed for an exit. I got to my feet and ran after him as the guy started ushering people out through the front door. We found a side exit, leading into the alley. We climbed up the fire escape to the adjacent building and were back on the roof where we started. "That went…really well," I sighed, sitting next to the fire escape. "That chick got away…but that's a lot of product going up in smoke. I'd say it's a partial win."

I don't even think he's listening. He's staring down at the warehouse. I sighed. I leaned my head back into the wall, my breathing steadying. As the adrenaline left, pain crept in. My shoulder hurt more than anything. But those two bullet holes don't feel too good, either. I sighed as I began working myself to my feet. I hissed, once fully up.

I held my right arm close to me. Throwing those knives really did a number on me. I cringed, slowly walking up to the Mask. I stood next to him, sirens filling the air. I put my hand on his shoulder. He startled a bit and looked at me. Without a word, he nodded and I took my hand off his shoulder. He turned around and we walked to the far side of the roof.

We jumped over the edge, landing on the roof of a delivery truck about five feet down. He jumped down first and then turned to help me. I gladly accepted and was thankful when I was on the ground. He sighed, staring at me. And I know what he means, I feel the same way. All of that was pretty much for nothing.

"Police!" We both froze, going rigid. I sighed. An officer stood about twenty feet away, his gun on us. "Don't you move!" Like I planned on it. I've already been shot twice this month; I don't need any more holes. "Hands, let me see your hands!" We both put our hands in the air, the Mask slowly turning around. "Slowly, slowly." Now that we were side by side, the officer walked closer.

He couldn't decide which one of us to point his gun at. He looked panicked, but this cop usually does. It's Mahoney. The same cop I ran into last time, when I was searching for the Mask and the Russians went up in smoke. I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he had no idea who I was. And that's either good or bad. "You're the guy," he said. "The one who killed Blake and shot those cops!"

"We're on the same side," the Mask said.

"I have yet to see that."

"I didn't kill Detective Blake, or shoot those cops. Blake and Hoffman were dirty. Working for Wilson Fisk. Along with a lot of others at your precinct."

"Right," he said unbelieving. "Like I'm going to listen to you." He pointed his gun at me. "And, I don't even know who _she_ is, but you traded up quickly. Makes me wonder if what they say happened to your other partner is true."

"I'm a friend of Angel's," I said. "I came to help finish was she started, to stop Fisk." He perked up a little, slightly lowering his gun. He trusted Angel, but not me or the Mask. So, unless I tell him who I am, this is the best I've got. He finally pointed his gun at the ground, still staring at me. I nodded and then we started to leave, heading in the opposite direction.

We only took a couple of steps before I heard him say, "You're her. Aren't you?" We both stopped. I turned around and looked at Mahoney. A police car pulled into the end of the alley. "Just make sure you have a cell ready that's big enough for Fisk," I said. The other officers got out of their car. And with that, the Mask and I left.


	28. One Week Later

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

The preacher was talking, praying—saying something but I wasn't sure what. It was like I couldn't feel anything. Everything was just empty. Doris had a tight hold of my hand on my right, Chase snuggled into my left. People were crying, feeling sad, doing what people normally do at funerals. But all I could do was stand there staring at the casket being laid down. After the words were said, the few that were at the funeral, were able to place flowers on the casket.

Purple, almost lavender roses. I should know the exact color by now. I helped Doris plan this. But that whole time, never once did it hit me like right now. Never once did I stop and think Ben wasn't coming back. It all just rolled right over me. The true weight of what's happened was finally setting in. I sniffled. "Chase, honey, why don't you take your flower over?" I suggested, bending down an inch to see Chase.

I could tell it was hitting him, too. But I don't think he quite got it. Chase never spent any long periods of time with Ben, so most of his moping was probably just everyone else's moods getting to him. He nodded with a sigh and let go of me, before starting over for the casket. I wiped at a loose bit of water from the corner of my left eye and turned to Doris. Thankfully she was able to make it today. She was in a wheelchair, but she was here.

Before I could say anything to her, she looked up at me. "Thank you for helping me make this happen, Alison," she said. "Ben…he always spoke fondly of you. You were his protégé. His favorite student. He saw a lot of himself when he was starting out in you." She smiled weakly and I inhaled, trying not to break down.

I faked a small smile. "He was very special. If there is anything you need— _ever_ —I'm here, okay?" I looked up at her caretaker, the nurse that escorted her here. "If she needs anything, can you call me? Whether it's insurance or- just _anything_."

"Oh, that's not necessary. Ben took out a policy a while back…he's taken care of me," she waved it away. Her eyes started filling up and she looked down. "He's always taking care of me, even now."

I held her hand tighter and moved to stand in front of her. "Doris, please…please call me. Chase and I will come visit you so you won't get lonely," I said, gaining her attention. "I don't care if you say no; I won't let you be alone. Ben…Ben was like family to me. You have _me_ now, okay? You have me." She smiled a bit through some tears and her caretaker leaned forward a bit.

"It's time we get back," she announced.

I nodded and squeezed Doris's hand. "I'll call you in the morning, yeah?"

"Thank you," Doris nodded. "Thank you for everything, Alison." I let go of her hand and her caretaker rolled her away, back to the road through the cemetery. A sudden touch to my arm startled me slightly as I turned back toward the casket. It was Matt. Dani and Karen were talking about something while putting their flowers down, out of ear shot.

I turned to face Matt fully. "This seems like a stupid question but…how are you?" he asked, gently. How am I? I looked to Dani and Karen. They weren't paying attention. They were busy now, looping Chase into the conversation. I looked back at Matt. I couldn't quite think of what to say but my chest started aching, and my eyes were no longer completely dry.

Tears started rolling down my cheeks. "He's gone…Ben's g-gone, Matt," I sucked in a breath, trying to tamp it down—and failing. It only made it worse. "How do I get better after this, after…I can't lose anyone else. I can't." I was shaking my head, the tears blurring my vision. Matt put his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, and I buried my face in the shoulder of his coat. "You won't," he said, almost too quiet for me to hear. "I promise."

 _Promise_. He doesn't even know. Every time I lose someone it's because of me. Because of something _I_ did. It doesn't matter if you stop Fisk. I'll still be right here, ruining everything I touch. I felt a hand on my back and pulled away. Dani gave a saddened smile. I tried to return it but it flopped like a dying fish. Her eyes were knowing, sympathetic. She opened her arms and I stepped into them. "I'm so sorry, Alison," she said.

I could hear Chase's voice get closer, so I sniffled back my tears—wiping them away—and stepped back. My gloves were probably really wet by now. I stepped around Dani and walked the few feet it took to get to the casket. A large bundle of roses already lay on top. I took a deep breath and placed my rose with the others, then stood back a moment. Out of the corner of my eye I could see someone step up beside me. "I'm very sorry for you loss," it was a man's voice.

I glanced left. It was the priest. I turned back to the casket. "Thank you," I replied, as loud as I could manage.

"You're a friend of Mathew's?" he asked, lightly.

"Yes," I nodded, turning a bit to see him. I held out my hand. "Alison Fletcher."

He took my hand and shook it once gently. "Father Lantom. I preach at St. Mathew's. If you ever need to talk to someone about your grief—or anything else—please don't hesitate to come to the church."

"Thanks, but I'm not religious."

"That's alright, we don't mind sharing. The confessional is always open…I promise I won't try to convert you." He said the last bit pointedly, like it was supposed to be a joke. But it seemed just like a lighthearted comment. I smiled closed-mouthed and he sauntered away before I could reply.

After we'd finished at the ceremony, we went back to the law firm—Dani, Karen, Matt, Chase, and I. Karen wouldn't shut up. On the ride there I could at least get some quiet. But as Chase and I joined the others in the hallway, almost to the door to the law firm, Karen was going on and on. Dani looked like she wanted to make it stop the hard way.

"…he just stood there, like he was his friend!" Karen fiddled with the keys in the door a second, then pushed it open and marched through. "Like he had nothing to do with what happened."

"I thought Ben said he didn't have any evidence Ellison was taking money from Fisk," Matt said, tiredly, shutting the door behind us all. Chase went into the office and started rolling around in an office chair. "No but it makes sense," Karen pushed. "I mean it explains-"

Dani hung up her coat with a heavy sigh. "Karen, stop right there. When something like this happens, you want to blame someone, want a reason why. But there's no other reason here than Fisk. Us, in this room?" she gestured a hand around in a circle. "We know who the real enemy is."

"Yeah." Karen dropped into the chair behind the front desk, leaning her elbows onto the desk top. She looked like a bit of a wreck. Probably not as much of a wreck as I felt. My hands were still shaking from long before the funeral. They never really stopped after….

I went over to the coat rack and hung mine up, along with my scarf. I slipped off my gloves and stuffed them in my coat pocket. "The worst part about all of this? Foggy," Karen said. "He didn't even show up."

"You said he left a message," Matt pointed out.

Karen made an annoyed sound. "Yeah, he left a message. Letting us know he had better things to do."

"I'm sure he didn't say that," Matt argued.

"No, but that's what he meant."

"Let him be a jerk," I started across the room for the small kitchen area. "We're better off without him." I opened the cupboards until I found a cup, poured day old coffee in, and then shoved it into the microwave for a minute. "I'm sorry, Alison," Karen apologized, from the other room. "How are you doing?" I started pouring sugar and some kind of creamer—I think that's what it was, but it looked more like wet sand—into my cup.

"You wanna know how I'm feeling?" I inhaled, bringing my coffee with me to the doorway, leaning a hip into it. "I'm _angry_. I want Fisk punished. I want him arrested. I want to be in court the day the jury hands in the verdict. And I want to see that _smirk_ wiped from his face the moment when he realizes he'll _never_ be a free man again." I must've used a much more sinister tone than I aimed for because everyone was staring at me now.

The whole room was silent a moment. But Matt spoke up, "Everyone that's taken money from him, everyone that's helped him tear apart this city…they're all gonna get what's coming to them…along with Wilson Fisk."

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I heaved, out of breath and shape. Sweat poured from places I forgot I had. I bent over, resting my hands on my knees. I sniffled. "I told you…I'm _not_ a boxer, Murdock." I stood, taking a few steps and I tried to calm myself. I glanced at Matt. He was highly amused, that stupid grin on his face. "Well, you did say you wanted to hit something."

"Yeah," I wiped my face with the back of my wrist. "I was just hoping it'd look a little more like Fisk." I sighed and then leaned against the ring. "Your turn," I pointed at the bag. He smiled and walked up to it, adjusting the wraps on his hands. He started punching the bag as I took a drink. "One of these days, we need to come up with a plan," I blurted. I know we need to have this talk, and so does he. But, it probably could've waited.

Matt paused, turning toward me. "Get a hold of Wesley. See if he can help." My heart nearly jumped up into my throat at the sound of his name. Another dead person, which, who knows if he got buried on land. I took a few seconds to reply, as he continued punching. My mind wondered to the night he died, and what I did.

"I can't," I finally said. "He's dead." Matt had swung and missed the bag. He turned to fully face me, his hand held out to catch the bag when it came back. "Fisk must've found out he was a rat." Matt looked slightly confused, yet disappointed at the same time.

"Does Alison know?" he asked.

Yes. "No," I sighed and went for my water. Matt nodded and then went back to the bag again. I inwardly sighed. At least that was over. I just need to keep track of my lies. Alison thinks no one knows. Matt now knows he's dead, but not how. Alison has no idea what I did to his body after she left. Fisk still doesn't know it was us…or I hope he doesn't. And, no one else knows. I think that sums it up. I hope.

Matt continued punching the bag, hitting it pretty aggressively, now. He needs to get it out. At least he's not hitting something alive. That's always good. I sat my water down as I heard the gym door open. I looked up and saw Foggy walking toward us. Foggy stopped a few feet away from me. He nodded and I gave a pathetic wave. He was clearly here for Matt.

Matt's punches steadily slowed, until he wasn't swinging anymore. He breathed heavily as he looked off someplace across the room, away from Foggy. "How'd you know I was here?"

"Known about your outlet for a while," Foggy replied. I just kind of shrunk back and watched. "I didn't say anything because I thought it had something to do with your dad. Now I know better." A few seconds of silence passed, and then Matt went back to hitting the bag. I sighed and squirted water into my mouth. "Thought you'd be out punching people in the head," he glanced at me, "or whatever you do."

"We were," I said, slightly startling him. He seems a little hesitant around me. Good. If the boy's got to learn, might as well be the hard way. Foggy looked at me, doing a double take. I sighed, realizing I was wearing a tank top. All of my scars are visible for him to see. Or, at least, most of them. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and blonde, so the scar on my face was extra prevalent.

I grabbed my thin jacket off the floor of the ring and slid it on. Foggy quickly looked away, like he'd just seen me coming out of the shower. "We went to go see Ben's editor," I finished.

"Ellison?" Foggy asked, looking hopeful. "Did he talk?"

"No, we never got close." I glanced Matt's way. He's still hitting the bag, letting me do all the talking. And, he's not looking directly at Foggy, even though I know darn well he knows where he is. "We're trying again tomorrow," I pointed that last bit at Matt. He slowed his punches to a stop and looked directly at me. I tipped my head toward Foggy. Matt sighed, and I swear I saw him roll his eyes.

He left the bag and walked to the ring, in between Foggy and me. He started undoing the wraps on his hands. Foggy looked like he got kicked…or ate something very sour. "Are Karen and Alison upset?"

"That you didn't come to the funeral?" Matt asked.

Foggy nodded. "I just nodded. You could tell that, right?"

"Yeah, I could tell," Matt said. Good, they're talking. Maybe things will get resolved. Or, someone will leave with a broken nose. "I told Karen this was my fault…all of this between you and me. Alison, though-" he shook his head and I could tell he was holding something back.

Foggy just nodded. "I was on my way to the service and I got a call…from Marci."

I scoffed. "You didn't go to Ben's funeral for a booty call?" Matt looked as disgusted as I felt.

"She's been helping me," Foggy said, looking around Matt at me.

"Oh, I'm sure."

He rolled his eyes and then went back to Matt. "She's been copying files from Landman and Zack on the quiet. Whole stack of documents on their dealings with Fisk, and Owlsley at Silver and Brent."

Matt slapped the ring floor, clearly angry. "Ben is dead, Foggy, because he got dragged into this. And now you're doing the same with her."

"We're being careful."

"This has to stop. Fisk has to-" Matt sighed and rubbed his face. He was as frustrated as I felt. Bringing another person into this is stupid. Foggy's middle name, recently. "I have to stop this…before there's no one left to bury." Matt put on his coat, grabbed his bag and then headed for the door.

"Yeah, I'm a part of that, too," I said. Matt stopped. I stood next to Foggy with my arms crossed. "Last time you went after Fisk, I found you half dead!" Foggy said. "More than half. I would say take her-" he jutted a thumb my way "-but she didn't even come back till three days later. You go after him in the mask again, he might kill you. _Both_ of you." Matt turned around. "Or you might kill him, which would probably have the same affect on someone as Catholic as you are."

"I've been offering to kill him for a while, now," I said.

Foggy looked down at me, concern on his face, "Yeah, but could you _actually_ do it?"

I opened my mouth to reply, knowing I could do it and _still_ be able to sleep at night, as Matt pointed his folded cane at me and said, "Don't answer that." He then looked at Foggy. "What am I supposed to do? How do I stop him?"

"By using the law, Matt."

"Yeah, like we've been trying to do," I added. "In the beginning, you wanted to use the law to stop him. Which is why I _haven't_ killed him myself." Foggy looked down at me weird. He shook his head and then looked back at Matt. "Like you told me and Karen to do. That's how we take him down."

"'We'?" Matt and I said at the same time. I turned and faced Foggy, puzzled. I heard Matt say, "I thought Nelson and Murdock were over."

"There's nothing I want more than to find a way back to where we were," Foggy looked between Matt and I. "But…I don't know if we can." He seemed more apologetic than I was hoping. He was clearly trying to apologize to both of us…but I'm not sure how I feel about that. Alison's really the one he should be apologizing to, not me. And he and Matt have their own issues to work out.

"I think this whole thing," I said, "was one big eye opener for us- all of us, in our own personal relationships with each other. Time will tell if that's a good thing." I looked between them. "Maybe…we can all make up and try to find a new normal?"

After everyone agreed, and I knew the times of us wanting to kill each other have passed, for now, I quickly left the boys and headed to Alison's. I was late for something. She didn't exactly tell me. She opened the door before I knocked, my hand in the air. I sighed. "Get a new peep hole?" I walked passed her and inside.

Chase came bounding around the corner, a large matted ball of orange in his hands. He was bursting with joy. So much, I could almost see rainbows shooting out of him as he left a very colorful trail of flowers everywhere he went. "GUESS WHAT?!" I sighed, now that I'm deaf.

"What is it, Ch-" The thing in his arms started moving and I slightly jumped back. "WHAT is _that_?" He burst into laughter, shoving the matted flea bag in my face. "It's my new KITTY!" he shouted. I sighed and held the thing by it's under arms. I looked at Alison. More like glared, with a vengeance.

She started laughing, "Chase has something he'd like to ask you."

"Like, where's the nearest Humane Society?"

"NO!" Chase scowled. "He's my pet!"

"You can tell it's a he?"

"Mom said I could keep him, if you help me give him a bath."

I glared at Alison, again. Then I looked back at Chase. I looked at the cat and sighed. "If I die," I looked at Alison.

"The bathroom's over there," she pointed down the hall. I sighed and the headed that way, holding that _thing_ out in front of me. Chase ran ahead of me and opened the door. I peeked inside. They'd already filled the bath. I glared once more at Alison and then looked at Chase. "You might as well strip down to your skivvies…things are about to get hairy."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed, shaking my head. "Chase, what have you done?"

"I blame _you_ ," Dani pointed a finger at me with narrowed eyes. The whole bathroom floor was covered in suds and bubbles of soap floated about the bathroom.

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Me? How is this _my_ fault? _You_ said you'd help him!"

"Because he's _your_ son!"

"Mom, I caN'T FIND RUEBEN!" Chase exclaimed, in a crescendo of syllables. He was spinning, looking, digging in the soap. Dani made a sound that was a mixture of a sigh and a groan. "He's right there." Dani reached into the suds by the sink and pulled up the orange ball of wet fur called a cat. He was making a whining low sound. It started making an almost human sounding noise. It sounded like he was saying, "No, no, no, no, no," on repeat.

Dani turned to me, now partially covered in soap. "Now what?"

"Just run the water and…rinse him off?" I had no idea what to do. More water probably wasn't the best idea, but it was all we could do. She groaned shortly and turned back to Chase. "Turn it on," she instructed, jutting her chin in the direction of the tub. He acted quickly to do as told.

I inhaled. "I'll go get some towels."

Just after shutting the door, I heard a slosh and a loud hiss. I cringed. Great. My new cat was probably mauling them both. I won't have much of a bathroom left after this either. Which, I guess is okay, because we'll be moving out of here as soon as possible.

I'll just leave this under floor rotting for the next guy. Just as I'd reached the hall closet, I heard a knock at the door. That's odd. I wasn't expecting anyone. Maybe it was Matt, looking for Dani? I sighed heavily and hurried to the door. I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled it open halfway. Everything in me froze and boiled at the same time. My blood was running hotter than it ever has but my joints were locked up.

Wilson Fisk stood outside my apartment. With my son just inside. My hand slid from the knob to the side of the door, gripping it so tightly that my knuckles shown white. "Mr. Fisk, what a surprise," I caked on a smile, made it look real. "What brings you to my little apartment?"

"I'm very sorry to intrude at such a late hour…may I come in?" he asked, almost hesitant. He seemed saddened. Oh no…he's found out about Wesley. He knows what I did. And now he's here to kill me in revenge. I gave a short nod, trying to hide my rising anxiety, pulling open the door. "Of course."

"Thank you," he nodded.

He walked just inside and I closed the door behind him. I stepped around him, taking a shaky breath, and stood just three feet from him. The man that made Wesley try to kill me. The man that ruined my life. The man that took Ben away from me. The man that tried to kill my son when he hadn't even been born yet. "I'm afraid I'm not here on a very joyous accord," Fisk spoke up, looking down.

I loosely crossed my arms, mostly to hold myself still. My body was split. Half of me wanted to run and hide, and the other wanted to kill him. Or at least slap him across the face. "My friend—he recently passed away," he continued. He reached a hand into his suit jacket and pulled out a white envelope. "He had set aside instructions for this. In the event of his death, I was to give this…to you."

He held it out and all I could do was stare at it. My throat was sore and my chest was starting to ache. That familiar I'm-about-to-start-crying feeling edged a lump up in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Hesitantly, I reached out a hand and snatched the envelope, pulling it back to the safety of my possession. "He…he told you to give this to me?" I asked, almost in shock.

I hadn't expected anything like this. He gave me a note for Chase before he died, but I haven't read it yet. I don't even know if I'll actually give it to Chase. Fisk nodded. "Yes…I hadn't known that you previously knew each other, at the fundraiser…I'm very sorry, Miss Fletcher," he said, apologetically. This whole situation was giving me stress flashbacks to when I was fifteen.

Those men in uniform at the front door…saying dad's not coming home and practically the same thing as Fisk— _we're very sorry_. Instead of a letter, mom got a folded up flag. At least it was something a little more substantial to remember him by. I cleared my throat, pulling out of my thoughts. "Thank you…for stopping by and giving this to me," I thanked him, though I just wanted to throw up. "I'm sure—wherever he is—James is very thankful as well."

Fisk looked like he felt out of place. Like it was difficult for him to feel something real. "Yes, well, it was my pleasure," he nodded once. I moved to the door and opened it, cueing him to leave. He almost seemed just as thankful as I was to get out of that situation, disappearing down the hall as fast as he came. I closed the door, sure to turn the deadbolt. Sudden muffled sounds startled me and I turned left.

"WHO NAMES A CAT AFTER A SANDWICH?!" Dani stumbled out of the bathroom and slammed the door, sending a wave of suds across the hallway floor in a whoosh. I paused. She looked up at me, her chest heaving for a breath. Her eyes were full of anger and pure annoyance. " _What?_ "


	29. Hoffman

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"Things are bad enough around here. Last thing I need is to be seen chumming it up with the enemy." We followed Mahoney outside. He stopped and held up the brown sack Foggy had given him. "Especially ones bringing cigars for my mom."

"These are the good ones," Foggy argued.

"So all the other times you were buying cheap?"

"How are things bad?" Matt asked. "What's going on?" Mahoney glanced at me again. I probably shouldn't have come. I'm wearing street clothes now, but I wasn't when we saw each other last. And, if anything, this scar on my face is going to give me away. I wore a ball cap, my dark brown hair smashed strategically under it. Most of the left side of my face is covered.

"You hear about that warehouse fire a few days back?" he asked.

"That Chinese place?" Foggy asked.

"Yeah, it turns out it was full of illegal immigrants and a ton of heroin. And that guy in the mask was there. I had a run in with him, and his new partner, leaving the scene."

"New partner?" I said. "That was a fast exchange."

"I know. But the two of them, I mean, I don't know, what they were saying got me thinking."

"He was working with Ben Urich," Matt blurted.

"How do you know that?"

"Because we were working with Ben, too, on the same story," Foggy said, saving the day again. I sighed, slightly chilled by the morning air. "The story Ben was working on was about Wilson Fisk."

"Yeah, the man in the mask talked about him. He said half the cops in the 15th are in his pocket."

"You believe him?" Matt asked.

"No, I've seen things that make me wonder."

"Ben found Fisk's mom," I said. "She told him stuff Fisk doesn't want getting out. I think Fisk was tying up some loose ends."

"Well, forensics couldn't pull a single print at the scene. Not even Urich's. All his files and notebooks are gone, hard drives wiped clean."

"Fisk's mom got the same treatment," Foggy said. "Gone, no record of her at the care facility she was at."

"Those both sound like professional hits," I said. Mahoney looked at me weird, as two officers came out of the station. The fat one was on the phone. He looked at Mahoney. "Looking for you inside, Sarge."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be in in a minute," he sighed as the officers walked away. They both headed to their car, peaking Matt's interest. "I've been gone ten minutes and already they're looking for me." Mahoney looked at me again. "And, who are you?"

"She's been helping us," Foggy said. "We were all trying to help Ben stop Fisk."

"Look, I gotta get back."

"There's nothing else you can give us?" I asked.

"No, I've said too much already. And this guy's not even listening. Just standing there, man."

"I'm sorry. What were you saying?" Matt asked. I knew that look. He's got something useful. Which would mean this wasn't a total wasted trip. Mahoney sighed. "It don't matter. The way things are going around here, I'm thinking about taking an early pension. Move mom somewhere warm."

"Be a shame. The only cop on the force we know for sure is honest."

"Never see Serpico? Honest cops are usually the ones that get shot in the face." Mahoney shrugged and turned to leave. Matt and Foggy started leaving as Mahoney walked past me. He slammed right into me, in a hurry and not paying attention. My ball cap went flying, hitting the deck. I bent down to grab it, but he beat me to it. "Sorry," he stood and held out the cap.

I took it from him as he did a double take. He stared at me, shocked and bewildered, as I put the cap back on. "See you around, Sergeant." I nodded and then quickly caught up with the others. Matt looked at me as I caught up. "Everything okay?"

"I hope so," I said. "What'd you hear?"

"Hoffman's alive. From what I can tell, Owlsley has him holed up somewhere. Fisk wants him found, bad."

"He could blow this thing wide open," Foggy said.

"Yeah, if we find him first," I said. "Meaning, another boring day at the office." And it was. Though, I had to watch Lizzie. Again. I need to hire a babysitter. But, hey, who needs a babysitter when you have family? Yeah. Only if that family doesn't have a life. And I have two. Some days that's two too many. One of the things on our list was combing through the stack of papers Marci…acquired.

That alone took hours. But it was all we had. Lizzie slept in her carrier in the corner. I exchanged my stack of papers for a new one and then began searching. I leaned against the wall, near Lizzie. I was done sitting for the rest of the year. Matt was trying to find what he could online, while Foggy, Karen, and I went through the papers.

Foggy broke the silence with a long sigh. I glance up and saw him rub is face. "You know what doesn't make you want to gouge your eyes out?" The question went unanswered, though I don't think we were really supposed to try and answer. "Cold cuts, Italian meats, cheeses. Why'd I become a lawyer again?" I scoffed.

Matt shrugged, "To make lots of money."

Foggy chuckled and then became very serious. "That didn't work out so good, did it? Could've had my own deli. An apron with my name on it."

"Nelson, you're ridiculous," I dropped the papers in front of me and stared at him. I needed a break before my eyes started to bleed. Lizzie started to stir, so I put my foot on the edge of her carrier and began rocking it. "Oh, come on, Danielle!" he said, like I was the ridiculous one. "You can't tell me you've never had another job in mind. Or, something else you'd rather be doing with your life. Like, what were you doing when you met me?"

"Getting ready to make the worst mistake of my life."

"What was that?" Karen asked.

I looked up and smiled, "Becoming a lawyer." I chuckled. "Worst seventy two hours of my life."

"You were only enrolled for seventy two hours?"

"Then, why'd you stick around so long?" Foggy asked. I looked back down at the papers, glancing over them. "Oh, I was in between mis-" I looked up; remember who all was in the room. "Uh, jobs. Trying to figure out where to go from there. I lived with my cousin for a while, until he got married. Ugh," I sighed, "never live with newlyweds, okay? Never do it."

Everyone started laughing. I sighed, smiling at the memories. "Okay, enough about me…back to work." Foggy sighed and then went back to looking at the papers in front of him. The room was quiet for a few minutes. Then, Karen spoke. "So, how'd you find out about Owlsley? You never said."

Matt and Foggy both started choking on their words, stumbling over each other like pigeons after a fry. Don't ask how I know. Foggy finally spoke, "Your…pal in the mask." I brought the papers up to my face and sighed into them. Karen went into panic mode. "You saw him? Oh, my gosh. When? Where?" The boys went into another stumbling match. I held back a chuckle.

"You know the alley down by-" Foggy began.

"At the alley by the, um…"

"Yeah."

"…where we used to, um."

"All that matters is he…he really seems like he's trying to do the right thing," Foggy finished.

"I told you I had a feeling about him," she said. I exhaled when it was over. She got an answer she liked, and no one's secret was blown. The happy middle. I lowered my papers and then went and sat next to Matt. I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. "We could be here a very long time. Like, forever. And it doesn't mean Owlsley using company funds to stash Hoffman."

"Owlsley's a man of financial privilege," Matt said. "I never met one that used his own money when he could use someone else's."

"True." I sat up and then went back to the paper.

"Wait," Karen said. "All right, this is a rundown of all of Silver and Brent's real estate holdings. There's 187 spread across out across New York State."

"We already looked at that," Matt said.

"Well, yeah, but the same rundown dated for the next day, it lists only 186."

"They probably just sold one that day," I said.

"Yeah, but look," she pointed down at the paper. "The balance is the same as it was before, and after, the property disappeared."

"Where's it at?"

"53rd and 10th."

Foggy perked up. "Hell's Kitchen." That's got to be it. I looked at Matt as he was looking at me. I guess we're both thinking the same thing. Matt and I stood. "Right, stay here, keep looking through the documents in case we're wrong," Matt said, sliding on his jacket. "We'll go to the 15th and tell Brett what we found."

"Couldn't you just call him?" Karen asked. I headed to the door as Matt answered her. I glanced over at Foggy, using hands signals to ask him to watch Lizzie. He smiled and gave me a thumbs up. I nodded, and then Matt and I were on our way. We stepped out of the law firm and headed for the stairs. "Change and meet you there?" I asked as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Yeah," Matt nodded as we exited the building. We each turned and went a different direction.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed heavily, dropping my weight into my desk chair. My cubical seemed to get smaller every day. And today was no different. I rolled over to my computer and picked up my 'I Love New York' mug, taking a long drink. Suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere, the main door to our floor burst open. It startled me, nearly causing me to spew coffee all over my screen. FBI agents poured into the level.

They were in an extreme hurry, practically running through the office and straight to Caldwell's desk. Right then it seemed to click. Ben said he knew that someone was being paid off but he didn't know who. That Fisk was meddling and trying to get his articles flushed down the proverbial toilet. Now I know who it was. She was always too busy to include me in any of her social circles at the office.

I barely even knew her first name. The FBI agents pulled her from her seat and cuffed her right at her desk. They started reading her her rights and a pang of something hit me. It almost felt like on the inside was actually happy she was getting arrested and thrown in jail. Maybe because I am. I want someone to pay for getting Ben killed, and at least now I know not to hate Ellison anymore. He genuinely didn't take money from Fisk.

Ben was so sure it was him—what with him being the editor of the paper. How was Caldwell pulling the strings? A strange and steamy office affair, perhaps? No, Ellison was too prideful for that. The agents promptly escorted Caldwell out of the office and it was like they were never here. I can almost see the headlines now. And I did. No one knew for sure that Fisk had been arrested until later that night.

And, sure enough, I guessed correctly. _FBI Raid in Hell's Kitchen_. And _Philanthropist in Custody_. "The man once hailed as _the savior of hell's kitchen_ , is now believed to have been involved in a complex-" I was listening to the news. But then Foggy started talking. "Now everyone knows what kind of loser Fisk really is," he said, smugly, pouring whiskey into glasses.

Thankfully everyone else sat in between us. Otherwise I don't know what I might do. My heart says _slap across the face_ , but my emotionally instability says _choke hold_. "And all because _we_ made it happen," Karen beamed, taking a full glass.

"And Marci," Matt added. I nearly gagged.

"And Marci," Foggy agreed. "God bless those designer pumps."

I sat up, taking a glass. "And Ben," everyone suddenly looked a little more serious, their smiles being put on pause as they turned to look at me. "Ben should be here with us, celebrating. And now the reason why he isn't will get what he deserves," I held up my glass. "To Ben."

"To Ben," everyone said, holding up their glasses.

Dani sighed. "To all of Fisk's victims—the ones that held their ground but didn't make it to see today."

"Here here," Foggy nodded, solemnly. He shot back his whiskey and poured another glass. I turned my chair so that I could pretty much only see the laptop and started just trying to read the news anchor's lips. Laughter filtered in but I tuned it out. My stomach didn't really feel like whiskey but I made myself swallow it. Right then I felt emptier than I had in weeks.

I thought this moment, of all moments, should be the one that I felt most whole. That I felt like justice was finally being carried out. That I finally had closure for Ben— _and_ for Wesley. But it was none of those things and I was probably kidding myself when I thought that's how it would be. Because it was the opposite. "Alison, are you okay?" Matt's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I instantly turned in my chair to see the others. "Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Uh, guys? Look at the news," Foggy pointed toward the computer, a ghostly look on his face. I turned back toward the computer and froze. No. No, no, no, no, no. The transport truck was being sieged on the roadway. Fisk was getting loose. I quickly stood and moved to the window. Just then, two police cruisers buzzed past the law firm.

"I think we should go," I suggested, quickly twisting to see Dani and Matt. "You know, before they close the streets?" Matt nodded firmly and Dani was already sprinting for her coat at the door. Karen got up in a huff and moved to do the same. It only figures. Once again, the bad guy finds some way to make it out alive. Why would I expect anything less from a dirt bag like Wilson Fisk?

"… _what appears now to be some sort of firefight involving the FBI transport carrying Wilson Fisk. Uh, Janet, can you confirm what we're seeing here?_ "

I sighed and shoved the laptop closed, then hurried around the desk. Dani was already heading for me with my coat. "Go straight home—all of you," she said, looking at me, Karen, and Foggy in turn. "Don't stop for anything, got it?"

"Got it, boss," Foggy nodded.

Karen huffed. "We're idiots, aren't we? Sitting here celebrating, thinking it would be that easy with a man like him." I pulled on my coat and shoved Karen toward the door to follow out the others. She rambled on about other things on the way out but I've sort of learned to just turn her off, so I honestly didn't get anything she said after that. We all hurried to the curb in a cluster. Foggy flagged down and cab and shoved Karen in the back.

"Get her home, we'll catch the next one," Matt told Foggy.

"What? No, no, no- we're not leaving you," Karen instantly started protesting.

Foggy sighed. "It's fine! He'll get another cab."

He shoved himself in and pulled the door closed. The taxi pulled away from the road and I turned to Matt and Dani. "You're gonna go stop Fisk, right?" I asked, rhetorically.

"I don't know, I was thinking of picking up my dry cleaning over on eleventh," Dani retorted, sarcastically.

I gave her a look and then took in a breath. "You both just be safe, alright? Be _smart_. I don't want to bury anyone else this year."

"I made you a promise. I won't let you down now," Matt assured, with a firm nod. I hurried forward and wrap my arms around his neck in a tight, brief hug. He returned it without hesitation. A moment later I stepped back and moved to Dani. She looked begrudging but she hugged me back. "See you on the flip side," Dani said, as they started off. "Get your pen ready, Fletcher!"

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

In my mind, we don't even have time to stop and get our new suits. But, here we are. I just don't want Fisk slipping away, and that's something he's good at. Potter seemed slightly annoyed when we showed up, since the suits still need some work. Or, I guess, Matt's did. He said mine was easy and was done two days ago. But we explained the situation to him and he seemed to understand our urgency.

He pulled a black chest out from underneath one of his work benches. He carried it to the table in front of us and sat it down. "Black parts will give the most protection. Red might deflect a knife, depending on the angle…might not," he shrugged. He opened the chest so the Mask could see his suit and then turned and headed deeper into his workshop.

The Mask took off his glove and reached into the chest. He felt the fabric as I walked up next to him to look at the suit. "What do you think?" he asked.

I sighed, "Wow. Isn't that a loaded question?" The suit was folded so most of it you couldn't see. His new mask was sitting right on top. It looks just like he wanted it too, if not a smidge better. I heard metal clatter to the floor and glanced up. Potter was coming out of the next room with a duffle bag. He walked up to us looking very nervous.

"So?" he asked as he sat the bag down on the table. He looked to the Mask expectantly.

"It'll do just fine," he replied. "Thank you, Melvin." Potter smiled and sighed, relieved he liked it. Then he turned to me, all serious again. He went to the bag and unzipped it. He widened the mouth of the bag and then stepped back. As soon as he had started unzipping it, I could see the blue on the inside.

"The same goes for your suit," Potter said. "I also added a built in quiver, made of the same stuff, on the back…which will help with weight distribution. And, both hips have attachments for quivers, as well." I stepped forward and reached inside the bag. I pulled out the mask and examined it in awe. "I know you said you needed maximum visibility, but if your scar's covered there's less risk of people figuring out who you are. I know it cuts back on visibility-"

"No, it's fine." I studied it in my hands. It wasn't a full skull cap like Matt's appeared to be. It has the same looking front with slightly wider eyes, but no back cover. On the back are simply three straps. Two go from side to side and the third runs down the middle connecting the three. I felt the straps and not only were they stretchy, but they were lined with that sticky stuff that will allow it to grip my hair. "It's perfect, actually."

I sat the mask down and grabbed the shoulders of the suit, pulling it slightly out of the bag. The fabric felt tough and durable, but that wasn't what caught my eye. The suit and mask are both the same shade of blue as my leather jacket. And, across the front of my suit, starting in the center of my chest and stretching up into the shoulders…are two large, white angel wings. My eyes flicked up to Potter.

"You both needed a symbol. I figured he had the devil horns…so you needed a pair of wings."

"Yeah." I put the suit back in the bag. "It's perfect." Potter looked extremely pleased that he had two happy customers. I put the mask back into the bag and then zipped it closed. He suddenly turned very serious, looking at the Mask and said, "Betsy's going to be safe now, right?"

"I made you a promise," he replied. "I intend to keep it."

"Fisk is going to spend the rest of his days in jail," I added. Potter nodded, pleased with the transaction. The Mask closed the lid on his trunk, picked it up and headed for the door. I sighed, throwing the duffel bag over my shoulder.

"Be careful, Miss Dani."

I paused and looked at Potter. I nodded and then began backing up. "Thanks again, for the suit. Be sure and read tomorrow's paper."


	30. Fisk

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

We ran down the stairs of my roof access door and into my creepy little layer in the closet. Sounds more serial killer and less caped hero, to me. Anyway, we reached the actual layer part and I headed for the closet door. "This way."

"Always wondered how you did that," the Mask said. I smiled and pulled back the panel, stepping out through the closet into my room. The Mask followed. I tossed my duffel bag on the bed and then headed for the office. I stopped in the doorway and turned back. "I'm going to tell Mary what we're doing. You change." I left and closed the door.

I walked out into the main room and found Mary coming out of the kitchen. She slightly jumped when she saw me, holding Lizzie. "I need to put a bell on that cat door of yours," she sighed. "What's wrong? You look frazzled."

"Well, I slightly am. It's a long story, but Matt and I are going to go stop Fisk. If we don't do it now, we might miss our chance. The cops already tried arresting him, but he had a plan for that." I sighed and walked to the front desk.

"So…what are you going to do?" she asked, turning on the main room light. I ducked behind the desk, pushing the chair out of the way. "Last time didn't go so well."

"Yeah, well…" I pulled open the bottom drawer and began riffling through the papers. "Last time, Nobu warmed us up for him. And, we were taken completely off guard." I found the paper I needed and then slammed the drawer shut. "That's not going to happen, this time." I stood and righted the chair. I looked at Mary, worry already on her face.

Matt walked into the room, decked out in his new attire. He held the mask in his hand, stopping a few feet away. "Wow," Mary said. "That is…quite the upgrade."

"Yes, it is." I walked around the desk and over to Mary. I held out the paper. "Here. If you want to help, now's your chance. Fire up the satellite and find Fisk." She nodded and took the paper from me. She read it as I walked away, headed for the bedroom. I walked past Matt. "Seriously, though…that's much better. Red is definitely your color." He smiled.

"Dani," Mary said. "Whose satellite is this? These don't belong to the one Chase and I used."

"Yeah, I gave that one to a friend. This one's better." I turned and continued to the bedroom. I walked into my room and closed the door. I quickly changed into my suit as I heard Mary yell, "This better not have anything to do with S.H.I.E.L.D.!"

"It's fine, Mare!" I sighed and then continued dressing. Once I finished, I went and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I look so cool! This is so much better than the other one. I slipped on the mask and then looked in the mirror again. He was right, it does cover the scar. I tested the realm of my visibility until I was satisfied.

The suit looks pretty identical to Matt's, just blue and in the shape of a woman. But I like it. My blonde braid sat on my shoulder. I topped it off with the blue lipstick and then exited the bathroom. I opened the bedroom door and saw Mary on the computer in my office. "Anything?"

"No, not yet. Almost-" She stopped talking when she looked at me. Her mouth fell open. "Well, aren't you two a pair? But, seriously, these new suits are awesome." She looked at Matt, who stood in the doorway to the office. "You are one lucky man."

"I try," he shrugged. He looked up at me and smiled. The computer started screeching and I knew it'd found our target. I quickly got behind Mary and looked over her shoulder. The computer was showing a live video feed of Fisk's truck driving down the road. "Got him," I said as Matt stepped forward. "Looks like he switched trucks."

"Then let's go," Matt said, moving toward the door. I instantly followed suit.

"Wait," Mary said and we stopped. I turned around right as she hugged me. I wrapped my arms around her. "You need to come back." She pulled away, looking at me. She then looked at Matt. "Both of you."

He nodded. "We will. I promise." Mary stepped past me and then hugged Matt. He seemed caught off guard, but then returned the hug. Mary's always been one of those people who fly by the seat of their emotional pants. So this outburst of affection doesn't shock me at all.

"Mare, we gotta go."

"I know." She let go of Matt and then stepped to the side. Matt continued to the hide out door. I walked past Mary, "Don't wait up." I slapped her on the arm. She scoffed and I made it to the entrance. I filled my quiver and grabbed my bow on the way out. We made it up to the roof, and even I could hear sirens far off. The whole town was now looking for F-

Matt grabbed me, pulling me toward him, and then kissed me. He pulled back and looked at me. "I just needed to do that."

"You won't hear me complaining," I said as he chuckled. "You ready to put an end to this?"

"More than you know."

We then began our six mile trek. It didn't take us too long, considering we were running across roof tops the whole time. Not my favorite thing in the whole world. But it works. We stopped and I was able to catch my breath. I pulled out my iPhone and then brought up the satellite footage. "They're about six blocks behind us."

"Good. We'll catch 'em here."

"I'll stop the truck. There should be a guard in the back."

"I'll take him."

"Okay. And…we still want him alive, right?"

Matt looked at me with a slight scowl. I threw my arms up in surrender, "I'm just checking."

"I'm not going to have to worry about you, am I?" he question was more serious than I was hoping.

"No. Fisk stays alive. We're not killers. I got it." I looked back down at the phone. "I need to go. You can call me Angel, again." I walked to the edge of the roof and then hurried down the fire escape. "But, 'The Mask' doesn't really suit you anymore." I reached the bottom and then ran to the end of the alley. "Which means: you're in need of a new code name."

I ran across the road and then up the street a block. "And, we need a new system. I can talk all I want, but I can't hear you rolling your eyes." I stepped into another alley, and hid behind a ware house. I slipped my bow out of its holster as I heard the truck round the corner, two blocks down. I flicked my wrist and the bow expanded. "Okay. I've got it." I pulled out an arrow and slid it into place. "I have, like, the perfect name for you."

I turned around and saw the truck coming. I brought my bow up and pulled back the string. I took a deep breath. Man, this feels really good. I aimed for the windshield, on the driver's side. This should only hit his shoulder…maybe. "Daredevil." And then I let it fly. I heard the arrow whiz threw the air seconds before the truck's windshield shattered.

The truck made a hard turn to my right, flipping onto its side and then sliding to a stop. Once it stopped, the air became quite. I reloaded and stepped out into the road, walking toward the roof of the truck. The back of it slid open and I froze, ready for whoever stepped out. It was Fisk. He looked dazed.

He slightly stumbled out of the truck, taking a step before falling to his knee. I sighed, resisting the urge to shoot. It's so easy, yet so hard. All I have to do is let go of this string and he'd be gone, dead. Fisk would forever be out of our lives. But, if I did…I think Matt would then be out of mine. He can still love me knowing I used to kill. That I once was ordered to take peoples' lives. But would he love me if I was still taking them? Do I want to know the answer?

Daredevil jumped off a roof and landed on the truck. Fisk startled and looked up at him. I continued walking closer, now twenty yards away. "You were right…" Daredevil said, "what you told me over the radio that night. Not everyone deserves a happy ending."

Fisk thought for a second and then said, "You?" The guard on the inside of the truck stood and started firing his gun through the roof. Daredevil backed up as the wall of bullets followed him, until he was at the end of the truck. I let go of the string and lodge my arrow in the guy's thigh. He screamed and fell to the ground, as Daredevil jumped off the truck.

Fisk looked my way, looking for where the arrow came from. His eyes landed on me and then he really looked confused. He stood as he stared at me. "Miss me?" I asked.

"You're-"

"An angel? Yes, but not yours."

He turned and ran. Much faster than I thought a man his size could, might I add. I sighed and then ran after him. We ran through an alley and into the next street over. I loaded my bow, aimed and fired. My arrow hit its mark, landing in the gas tank of some car. It exploded about twenty feet in front of Fisk. He stopped and slowly turned around.

I readied another arrow as Daredevil caught up, joining me while we stood in the middle of the road. We both stood poised and ready, our weapons of choice waiting to hit something. Fisk stared at us, rage filling him. "I wanted to make this city…something better than it is." I rolled my eyes. I've heard his speech too many times.

"Something beautiful. You took that away from me! You took everything! _I'm gonna kill you_!" Fisk sounded, and looked, like a pouty two year old. Daredevil slid his sticks away and then looked back at Fisk. Great. He wants to do this the hard way. Should've known. I removed the arrow from my bow and then returned it to my quiver. I folded down my bow and then slid it into its holster.

"Take your shot," Daredevil said.

I smiled. "I understood that reference." Fisk screamed and charged, like a stinking rhino. Daredevil ran forward. He jumped, using Fisk as a pommel horse to launch himself over him. He continued to hold onto him, flipping Fisk onto his back as soon as his feet hit the floor. He'd flipped and tried to come down on him, but Fisk moved.

Fisk sprang to his feet, more agile than I expected, and was ready for our next move. Before I knew it, the three of us were stuck in a fist fight. Daredevil swung, Fisk ducked, I kicked, and so on. After a few minutes, I kicked again but Fisk caught me. He grabbed my leg and held it. He spun around in the opposite direction to counter Daredevil's move, dragging me with him. He let me go, with enough momentum to throw a few feet away into the pavement.

I quickly got to my feet as Fisk now had a hold of Daredevil. He head butted him before launching him into the air, toward the burning car. I saw what was about to happen and quickly pulled out my grappling hook. I launched it around him, mid air, and then gave a hard jerk. Daredevil came crashing to the ground, missing the flaming car.

I dropped the grappling hook and ran at Fisk. I jumped, planting my feet in his chest and pushed off. I back flipped to my feet and then swung, hitting him. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down, repeatedly kneeing him in the stomach. Then I stopped and locked my fingers together, before driving them into the side of his head.

Daredevil appeared out of nowhere, flipping in the air and planting his foot on the side of Fisk's face. Fisk back handed him and then kicked him in the stomach. I lunged forward as Fisk wrapped his fingers around my throat. He squeezed so hard I couldn't breathe. I grabbed at his hands as he head butt me. He did one more time and then rammed his knee into me.

Daredevil plowed into the side of him, causing his grip on my throat to loosen. I was able to get out of his grasp before he and Daredevil hit the floor. I started coughing and was still struggling for a breath. I collapsed to the ground light headed, my hand on my throat. I coughed until I could breathe again. I kept glancing at the others, trying to see what was going on.

Fisk had somehow gotten a hold of a rebar and was trying to hit Daredevil, who now had his sticks out. I went back to staring at the ground, trying to catch my breath. I took several long breaths, knowing I needed to hurry and get back in the fight. I coughed one last time and then began trying to stumble to my feet.

"This city doesn't deserve a better tomorrow!" I heard Fisk yell. I finally got to my feet and then looked his way. I don't know what happened, but Fisk was now standing over Daredevil beating him with his own stick. "It deserves to drown in its filthy! It deserves people like my father! People like you!"

I quickly pulled out my bow and then loaded an arrow. I raised my bow, aiming for Fisk. Daredevil grabbed Fisk's hand and pulled him closer, lodging his foot into his shoulder. "This is my city…my family." He slid his foot down his arm, breaking Fisk's grasp on the stick, and then punching him in the face. Fisk stumbled back a few steps.

Fisk straightened and then started for Daredevil. I released my arrow, watching as it sinks into the meaty part of Fisk's shoulder. The force of it pulled him that way, as I reloaded. He screamed, his face turning red. Daredevil rolled to his feet as I shot another arrow at Fisk. This one landed in his thigh. He screamed again and sunk to his knees.

He grabbed the arrow in his shoulder and pulled it out, throwing it to the side. Daredevil stood next to me, holding his sticks. Blood ran from his nose. I reached back for another arrow and coughed. I slid the arrow into place, remembering to breathe. I looked back at Fisk as he ripped out the other arrow. I cringed and then he threw it toward me. The arrow fell short, clattering to the ground at my feet.

I looked down at it and then at him. "Thanks, I can reuse that."

"Do you really think that this will…change anything?" Fisk asked. He was clearly in a lot of pain, but not enough to keep his trap shut. "You think the two of you…in your silly little costumes…will make a difference?" The thought of killing Fisk entered my mind again. And, this time, I might have actually done it. Impulse kills are the ones you don't come back from. And that's what this would've been.

But before I could act, a car comes flying out of nowhere and plows right into Fisk. It then made a sharp right, toward us. Daredevil tackled me to the side, getting us both out of the way. The car slammed on its brakes right where we were standing. I sighed, lying on the ground with Daredevil on top of me.

Now I have a new person to kill…and it's whoever's in that car. I looked over at Fisk and he was a mangled pile on the ground. I looked back at Daredevil. "Thanks." He nodded and rolled off of me. I quickly found my bow before looking for the owner of the car. We both stood and then I looked at the car. Alison got out of the driver's seat and looked at me.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My chest heaved, out of breath from the adrenaline rush. "Did I get him?" I asked, rhetoric and a bit bitter. Dani and Matt—both in costume—stared at me in shocked silence for a bewildered moment. Then Dani spoke up. "Dang, Fletcher. I hope you know you just totaled your car," she said.

"It was worth it," I pushed my door shut behind me. "I needed a new one anyway."

Sirens wailed in the not so distant cityscape. Just then, a police cruiser came to a screeching halt not far from us. Sergeant Mahoney quickly stepped out of the vehicle and aimed his gun at the vigilantes. "Police! Show me your hands!" he shouted, slowly stepping closer. "Do it! Show me your hands!"

"I told you before, Sergeant…I'm not the bad guy," Matt said.

"Yeah. We actually just save your butt," Dani added.

"Oh my gosh…it's you," Mahoney realized. I felt completely lost standing by my car with my hands up. The only thing I could do was watch and pray to whatever god was listening to make him not shoot my friends. "This man was a fugitive from the law," Matt said, changing the subject with ease. "And we stopped him. We good?"

Mahoney was obviously thinking about it. Dani sent a reassuring glance my way before refocusing on the Sergeant. Mahoney then slowly reached up and grabbed his radio. "Fifteen Sergeant Central. Be advised, Wilson Fisk under K, North alley four-six and ten," he spoke into it. He then promptly holstered his gun and instead pulled out handcuffs.

He looked my way. "You can put your hands down. What are _you_ doing here?" his eyes shifted to my car front behind me, and I dropped my arms. "And what on this earth happened to your car?"

"You two know each other?" Dani asked, sounding surprised.

I inhaled. "We've met. This little dent? Don't worry about it, Serge. Just a little fender-bender."

"Yeah…right…" He shook his head with a heavy sigh and moved over to Fisk. He started cuffing him and turned to see the actual damage on the car. "Thank you, Sergeant," Matt said, as Mahoney clipped on the handcuffs.

"Hey, so what am I supposed to call you when I file my report? Your girlfriend's got a name, but-" Just then, Dani and Matt dashed up the fire escape of the building to their left and disappeared up to the roof. Mahoney stood and watched their silhouettes dissolve into the night sky. I couldn't help but smirk.


	31. Reunions and Conclusions

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"Daredevil," Karen said, trying it out. "That's what they're calling him now." I looked over her shoulder at the paper she was holding. On the front page was Alison's latest article. It was all about how Angel and Daredevil stopped Fisk, who's now sitting in a cell. I think she left out the part about hitting him with her car.

"Yeah, Alison did a good job with that one," I said.

"Daredevil?" Foggy scoffed. He was screwing the Nelson and Murdock sign to the outside of the building. "Sounds like he's gonna jump Snake River Canyon on his rocket cycle." We all started laughing.

"It kinda does, doesn't it?" Matt laughed.

"Okay, okay. I thought it was a bit goofy at first, but it kinda grows on you," Karen said.

"I don't know," I sighed. "Angel and Daredevil has a real ring to it."

Matt looked at me. "So does Daredevil and Angel." I smiled and then walked up to him. I grabbed his arm and got close to him, resting my chin on him shoulder. Then I whispered, "Don't get any ideas." He smiled, not being able to contain his chuckle.

"That is a serious upgrade." I straightened and then looked at Karen. She was still glued to the article. It was a cartoon drawing of Daredevil on the front. She was, like, drooling over it. If only she knew he was standing right next to her.

"I don't know, I think the horns are a bit much," Foggy said. "There. Done!" He stepped back and let us see the sign. "What do you think?" I let go of Matt's arm and he walked up to it. I watched as he fingered the letters. With everything he can do, it's hard to remember what he can't. Like the fact that he really _can't_ see.

"I think I'm glad I fished it out of the trash," Karen said pointedly at Foggy.

He turned to her and smiled, "Me, too."

"Nelson and Murdock," Matt said as he turned around to face us. "Avocadoes at law." Foggy started laughing.

"Avocadoes?"

"Yeah, it's a long story," Foggy sighed.

"One I need to hear," I said.

"Which I do not have time to tell you." He glanced at his watch and then picked up his bag. "Promised Marci I'd help her find a new job, since most of the partners at Landman and Zack are under indictment." He kind of glanced at me, but I pretended not to notice.

"You two getting back together?" Karen asked hesitantly. I could feel the air slightly thicken and the mood change. Marci is a sore subject for all of us. One by one, we each found out about Foggy cheating on Alison with Marci. I think we all slightly hold a grudge.

"No. I don't know." He looked at me again. "Maybe." I smiled and nodded, pretending to be happy for him. And, I kinda am. He deserves to be happy with someone. I just don't like the way he went about doing it.

"Well, thank her for us," Matt said. "For everything she did to help us bring Fisk down."

"He still needs a trial," I said. "But she was a big part in that." Foggy smiled and nodded. "Oh, who's all going to Alison's grand opening?"

"I'll probably stop by at some point," Foggy said. "But, I gotta go." He waved and then left. I turned and looked at the others.

"I can't," Karen said. "I have a…thing, later. But, I need to get back to work." She smiled and then went to the door. She waved and then disappeared inside.

"That wasn't weird," I said as Matt chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing," he shook his head. I walked over to the building and leaned into the wall. "You still going to see your brother?"

I sighed. "Yep. I need to know."

"I know." Matt dropped the blind guy act, walking over to me. He stood next to me and leaned into the wall too. We both looked at the road in front of us. "You want some company?"

"No. I think…I don't know. He'll talk if I'm alone." I sighed, trying to focus on something in front of me. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to actually know why he betrayed me. But, yet, I need too. I need to know. "I arranged to have him moved." I sniffled and whipped my nose. "To a secure facility."

"One of your friend's?"

"Yeah. He knows who we are. This way, he won't be able to tell anyone."

"What did you have to do to make that happen?"

"Nothing illegal. This time," I joked. "No, I was cashing in a favor. Nothing to worry about." I went to turn but stopped when I felt Matt's hand grab my wrist. He pulled me closer to him. His right hand came up, brushing the hair out of my face.

"The mission's over. You gonna stick around?" I felt his fingers run down my scar.

"Yeah. I've got a new one."

He looked at me questioningly. "What's that?"

"Loving you." I grabbed his tie and pulled him into me, kissing him. I then wrapped my arms around him. He returned the hug. So many things rushed through my head. But, we survived Fisk. We might be battered, but we're alive and we have each other. And, whatever comes next, I know we can survive that, too.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Last minute cleaning is always the worst. I told Chase he could stay home from school today, but he wasn't much help. He was sitting on the stairs with Rueben and fitting him for a new collar. My real life saver was Mary. Today is the opening day for my new café. I don't necessarily expect a huge turnout but I at least want the place _looking_ like I expect it. Mary was making adjustments to the front window décor while I was busy writing prices on the drink sign.

It was a cute little chalk board plank that Chase and I found at Goodwill the other day. The sign fit perfectly above the counter when we tested it. I finished the last price and then hefted myself up onto the counter top. "Need some help with that?" Mary asked, hurrying over from the window.

"I think I got it," I waved her offer away, but then I remember something and paused. "Actually, could you pass me those ceiling hooks, please?"

"Yeah, here you go." She grabbed the package off the table a few feet away and quickly held it up to me. I took it and tore the stupid thing open, then moved up to screw in the hooks. We drew a black dot where they were supposed to go. As I pushed the first one it, dust sprinkled back in my face. I swatted it away but I'm pretty sure some got up my nose.

It was too close to opening to stop and blow my nose so I just ignored it. I finished with the first hook and started with the second. "I like this one, Mom!" Chase exclaimed, trotting over with Rueben in his arms. I glanced down. Chase had a neon green collar with a small bell clasp to it on the orange ball of fur. I laughed. "Looks great, honey," I smiled.

"What's his name again?" Mary asked him.

"RUEBEN!" Chase said, rather loudly, holding the cat up by his under arms.

I gave him a look. "Chase, what did I tell you? How do we hold the kitty?" Chase quickly readjusted Rueben to lie more comfortably in his arms and I nodded. "There you go. Remember, hold him like you would hold Lizzie." He nodded quickly and then trotted over to one of the rot iron tables where Lizzie's carrier sat.

He started showing her the cat and I sighed, shaking my head as I looked back up at the ceiling. I finished the second hook and sorted out the chains, then hung the sign up on the hooks to hang above the counter. "That looks great, Alison," Mary smiled.

"It'll look better once it's got that frequently-used-dust on it," I smiled back, climbing down. She offered a hand and I took it, and she helped me down from the other side of the counter. Before I knew it, it was nine am. Opening time. My heart was up in my throat. Mary moved Elizabeth to a spot behind the counter and I went up to the front door. Just as I flipped the rusted looking open/close sign to open, I noticed something moving to the right.

I looked up. Dani and Matt, arms interlocked, were heading right for the door. I smiled excitedly and pulled open the door. "Hey! You guys are just in time," I said, ushering them inside. Dani genuinely looked impressed as she glanced around at the main floor, taking off her coat. "Wow. This actually looks like a real café," she commented.

I scoffed. "Did you have any doubt?"

"None at all," Matt smiled, answering for her. Honestly, I was even a little surprised. The floor was still a very dull looking cement but the walls were an authentic brick that contrasted the pale blue counter area walls. The rot iron tables looked wonderful with the hanging flower baskets and daisy center pieces. "That's more like it," I nodded. "I officially welcome you to Angel's Café."

Dani instantly made a small groaning noise and Matt barked a laugh. "That's perfect," he smiled at me.

"What are you gonna tell people when they ask who Angel is?" Dani crossed her arms.

I inhaled, pausing. "The truth? Just that the vigilante of the same name saved my life and I got inspired," I shrugged, and then gestured my arms out at the dining area. "Take a seat, order something, make me feel special." Matt held out his arm and Dani sighed, taking it. They started to the front counter and a sudden voice stopped me from following them. "Hey, this thing open yet?"

I instinctively turned to see who it was, but deep down I already knew. Foggy smiled at me, stopping just a foot or two from the front door. "Don't tell me I'm late," he said, peering inside. "Looks like I'm not the first one in. Dang. Oh well, second customer isn't so bad, right?"

"What are you doing here, Foggy?" I asked, dryly.

"Going to a new café in my area to support local, small businesses," he answered, obviously knowing what I really meant and skirting around it. I sighed and he snapped out of his joking mood for a moment. "Okay…I know things are weird between us, but I want you to know that I'm still going to support you. That's why I'm here."

"Foggy…you can't expect me to be who I was. Not after all we've been through," I shook my head.

He nodded. "I know, and I don't expect any miracles. But can we at least agree to work on it?"

My insides were screaming in protest, begging me to say no. Begging me to tell him to get lost because I never wanted to see him again. But, as usual, the Alison I used to be filtered in and I nodded with a sigh, gesturing into the building. "Fine. But I don't expect any miracles either," I reasoned.

He held up a thumb with a cheesy smile. "Deal. Now, please tell me you serve coffee."

"It's inside," I chuckled a bit, nodding.

"AWESOME." He hurried inside past me and I shook my head on an exhale. I started in after him and hurried behind the front counter. Mary was working on serving so I went straight back to the far wall and grabbed the stand up sign, then headed back for the door. It was a bit heavy but I was able to heft it out onto the sidewalk and set it up. Another chalkboard sign. This one had _Angel's Café_ written on it in what I was sure was at least fifty different colors.

Chase was in charge of filling it in after I drew the outline, and he did his job very well. "Alison." I startled a bit at the sudden voice and whirled around. It was Clint, Dani's cousin. I plastered on a bright smile. One that hopefully didn't portray how stressed I was, how depressed I was that Foggy was here, or even how my hands still hadn't stopped shaking. "Mr. Barton," I greeted. "Welcome to Angel's Café."

"Angel's, huh? It has a ring to it," he nodded, eyeing the front of the building.

"We serve coffee and breakfast all day, and there are fresh baked goods every morning—guaranteed fresh until at least noon-ish," I continued, using my marketer's voice. He smiled a bit brighter at the noon-ish part. "Feel free to order anything on the menu—we're very prepared."

"Sounds like it, and I just might. Congratulations," he nodded to me once before heading in. I took in a breath as a cool morning breeze blew by. There was a bubbling excitement that I was finding very hard to hide this morning. Maybe because after all that's gone wrong, I finally have something going very right?

I checked the sign again before heading back inside. The streets looked pretty dead this morning. Maybe because of what happened with Fisk? Either way, it was opening day and I probably wouldn't stop smiling until at least noon tomorrow. "How are my favorite vigilantes enjoying the café?" I asked, as my bouncy steps carried me behind the counter.

"It's really nice, Alison," Foggy complimented, nodding around a mouth full of blueberry muffin. "Did you make these? They're amazing."

"Yep—my mother's recipe," I nodded. He made a sound that was a mixture of a content moan and a groan into the muffin and Dani snorted. "You're ridiculous, Nelson," she commented, from her seat at one of the tables nearest the counter.

"What can I say?" Foggy said, once again around a mouth full of muffin. "I'm a sucker for a good muffin. And bagels. Do you have any bagels?"

Mary laughed. "I'll get you one." She moved over to the bakery container—it looked just like the baked goods holders at grocery stores, it was great, we actually found it in a dumpster but that's not the point—and slid open the glass, then piled two cheese bagels on a plate before sliding it closed again. She took the bagels back to the counter with her and slid the plate to Foggy.

He was on one of the pale blue bar stools in front of the counter. He made another moaning noise. "Ah, Mary, bless you," he said, taking the plate of bagels. Dani chuckled and shook her head, sipping her coffee. The coffee was always served in second-hand mugs. They ranged anywhere from _World's Greatest Grandma_ and _Coffee Makes Me Poop_ , to your typical _I Heart New York_. That second one was Chase's idea. "Wow…"

I looked at the door. The person I least expected walked into the Café. "Ellison? What are you doing here?" I asked, stepped around the counter. He glanced around, then turned to me, seeming a bit in amazement from the home improvement project success. "Your ad you ran in the paper said you were opening today," he gestured with the newspaper in his hand. He looked like this was awkward for him. "I had a few minutes so I thought I'd stop by and check it out. You've really outdone yourself."

I nodded once. Right, the ad. I didn't know what kind of customers it would get me but I figured it was the best advertising free could get you. Ellison had let me run it for one paper for free. It was a nice gesture but it screamed guilty conscious. "Thank you. Can I get you a coffee? Something to eat?" I asked, ignoring my thoughts.

"Coffee is fine, thanks," he nodded. I moved back behind the counter and headed to the coffee maker. We had a regular coffee maker and an espresso maker thingy that made like sixty different beverages—including fruit drinks. "Here or to-go?" I asked, throwing the question over my shoulder.

"To-go. I've got a thing at ten," Ellison answered, lightly. I grabbed one of our snazzy to-go cups—ordered them from a special company so I could get our name on them—and poured the coffee into it. I knew from prior experience never to offer sugar or creamer because he only takes it black, so I didn't bother with that. I slapped the lid on and handed it to him across the counter. "Three fifty," I said, typing it in on the register.

Ellison promptly fished into his wallet and pulled out a five dollar bill. "Here," he slid it across the counter. "Keep the change, yeah? Love what you've done with the place." He took the coffee and just like that, he was gone. I sighed and slid the bill into the register. Part of me felt sorry for Ellison. I know what it's like first hand to carry guilt with you everywhere you go. But the rest of me didn't care as much.

It seemed pretty dead as it reached ten-thirty. Just those that had originally showed up were still here. But, hey, I made five dollars. That's something, right? Honestly, I was just happy to have it finally open. Chase bounced around most of the time from table to table, but he mostly sat with Lizzie. Rueben wandered about unsupervised but I kept an eye on him from afar.

It slowly became reality that probably no one else was coming. Everyone that was here seemed to be having fun just shooting the bull. So I sent Mary out to the main table with a tray of sandwiches and I followed shortly behind with a couple bottles of champagne. "Wow, bringing out the big guns," Foggy beamed.

"Champagne, this early in the morning?" Clint asked.

"We have to celebrate," I announced, setting the bottles atop the table. "Mary, could you get some glasses?" She nodded hurried off behind the counter, and then reemerged a moment later with an arm load of champagne glasses. She set them down and I started opening a bottle. I finally got the wrapper peeled and then uncorked the top.

Unforeseen by me, the stupid cork shot off like a rocket and hit the ceiling at a thousand miles per hour. I shrieked a bit from surprise in a hard startle and everyone at the table started laughing. I started pouring glasses and Mary handed them out. Once everyone had a glass, I stood upright, holding up mine. I cleared my throat and suddenly all eyes were on me.

"I'd like to propose a toast. With friends like these it's kind of obvious why you're grateful…when I walked into Nelson and Murdock all those months ago, I honestly never expected to become friends with any of you," I admitted, calmly. "But you all went above and beyond your pay grades to help me—even in a personal capacity. And I can't thank you enough for that. So, to friends. I don't know where I'd be without you guys."

"To friends," everyone said, almost in unison.

"Don't think we'd get by so easily without _you_ , Alison," Matt said, eliciting agreeing _yes_ 's, _yeah_ 's, and hums from all around the table. Dani was one of the hummers, occupied with downing her champagne. She must need a really heavy pain killer if she's drinking it that fast. When she finally finished off the glass, she added, "Without you, we'd probably be dead from our lack of medical abilities."

"Yeah, how do you know how to sew up bleeding people so well?" Foggy inquired, curiously.

I took a swig of champagne—lord knows I'll need it. "My mother was studying to be a nurse when she got pregnant with me. She dropped out of medical school but she still found ways to use her skills—and taught me some things along the way," I answered, simply.

"To Alison," Matt held up his glass, and the rest of the table followed.

Dani sighed. "Wait, hold on," she quickly poured more champagne in her glass, then sat up, holding it up. "Okay, go ahead."

I chuckled and Matt sighed, shaking his head. "To Alison, for all the hard work she's put into this place. For being the strongest woman I know to get to where she is right now. You deserve this, and we're lucky to have you in our lives. Cheers," he finished. Everyone took drinks and I felt almost teary eyed. Thankfully I wore the water proof mascara. Though, I didn't actually cry so I didn't need it after all. I pulled over another chair from an empty table and sat.

It happened to be just in between Dani and Clint. Mary pulled over a chair as well, and then went to find Lizzie and Chase. It sounded like she found them on the stairs. As she dropped into her chair with Lizzie, Chase walked over to me and climbed onto my lap, right when I was taking a drink. But, like the skilled single mother I am, I was able to maneuver just right so that I didn't spill. "So, I hear we have a couple vigilantes to thank for taking down Fisk," Clint commented, looking between Dani and Matt.

"Yeah, you two wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" I joined in, looking to Dani and Matt.

Foggy scoffed. "Are you kidding? These two were probably huddled in some bomb shelter all night."

"It wasn't just us," Dani shook her head, and then jutted her chin in my direction. "Our favorite neighborhood reporter over here hit him with _her car_." There were a few pained expressions and _oh_ 's and _awe_ 's. I sighed and took a drink of my champagne. Definitely better than Foggy's whiskey, that's for sure. "Well, I'm not a reporter anymore," I announced, setting down my glance.

" _What_?" Dani's jaw dropped.

Matt seemed more concerned than shocked. "I thought you said only Ben got fired?"

"He did. _I_ quit," I smiled, proudly. "No more rat race, no more double shifts, overtime, only three hours with my son a day—none of it. I am _my own_ boss. Well, and Mary's." Dani's jaw dropped even further, giving Mary a _'what for?'_ look. "When did _this_ happen?" she questioned, slightly perturbed.

"This morning. We talked about it a while ago but she official hired me on today," Mary answered.

Dani thrusted a finger in her direction. " _We_ need to work on communication." Chase called Rueben over and I helped him heft the cat up on top of his lap, still sitting on mine. Foggy was too busy stuffing food in his face to really care much about the conversation. I tried my best to just focus on everyone else. But I couldn't help thinking there was a point to his wanting to smooth things over. Being bitter and hostile is what ruined my last relationship.

My pride got in the way and someone I cared about died. Maybe it would be a good idea to just let it go? It obviously wouldn't work out with Foggy anyway, so who cares if he wants to date some other girl? He wasn't interested in me or cared about me enough to stay. Big deal. I have all these other people, sitting around me right now, that care about me a whole lot more than that man ever could. I was pulled from my trance by a familiar, boyish voice.

Chase shot off my lap, shouting, "UNCLE PETER!"

He bolted across the floor to toward the door and my eyes followed him. He ran straight to Peter Parker, who looked to have just walked in the door. Chase slammed into Peter—nearly knocking him backward—and threw his arms around him so hard he probably could've broken a few of Peter's ribs. " _Uncle_ Peter?" Dani asked, raising an eyebrow. "The kid looks like he's twelve."

I sighed and pushed myself out of my chair, hurrying my way over. "Hey, I didn't expect to see you here," I smiled. Peter smiled back and I walked into his open arms, wrapping mine around his shoulders in a hug. "You're opening your own café, Alison, of course I'm gonna drop in," he said, like my statement was absurd.

I stepped back, a thought popping into my mind. "You can meet my friends! Come on." Chase was bouncing around mumbling something about what I thought was possibly a cat, but I wasn't sure. I grabbed Peter's arm and pulled him with me to the table. "Guys, this is my friend Peter Parker," I introduced, gesturing to Peter briefly. I pointed around the table for the next part, "This is Matt Murdock, Dani Dylan, Clint Barton, Mary Dylan, and Foggy Nelson."

"Hey, nice to meet you guys," Peter bobbed his head with a half wave.

"You live in New York?" Foggy asked, curiously.

"Yeah, born and raised," Peter answered. "I live up in Queens."

"Have a seat," I said, gesturing to my chair between Dani and Clint. He gladly sat and I moved to a table over to grab another chair to pull over. I just barely caught a mild glare from Dani, but I ignored it, and brought over a chair to sit in between Clint and Mary. I dropped into the chair and Chase ran over to me. "Mom, have you seen my action figure?" he asked, mildly distraught.

I turned toward him. "Which one?"

"Captain America," he quickly answered.

"Last I saw him, he was upstairs performing a balancing act on the bathroom cupboard door," I said, as his eyes widened. He quickly sprinted off and up the stairs. His footsteps pattered all the way across the ceiling. I shook my head and turned back to the table. "So, how'd you two meet?" Mary asked, looking between me and Peter.

"I was looking for a job and I saw an ad in the paper for a babysitting gig," Peter explained. He then gestured a hand around the table. "How did _you_ guys meet?"

"She needed a lawyer," Dani pointed at me, then to Matt and Foggy. "And they needed a PI."

Peter's eyes rounded as he looked over at her. "You're a Private Investigator?"

"Yep," Dani nodded once, leaning back in her chair.

"That is so cool! So you, like, solve crimes around the city and stuff?" Peter asked, getting more excited with every syllable. He was starting to look like a hyperactive squirrel that was just given a highly caffeinated drink. "That's awesome. I've been thinking about doing something like that—mostly just to help people—but I don't think I'm really cut out for investigating."

"You don't say?" Dani said, rhetorically. Her tone was dull and flat, obviously bored and mildly annoyed.

Peter turned slightly more toward her in his chair, and I crossed my arms, watching. "Yeah, I mean, I've always been into that whole genre of work and stuff. Do you get many clients around here?" Dani's eyebrows lowered just slightly, her lips starting to purse. Just as she was about to reply—probably with something to get him to stop talking—a cell phone started ringing. It was a high pitched jingle of some kind. Peter quickly dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone.

He sighed. "It's Aunt May."

"You better answer it," I smiled. "Remember last time you didn't pick up the phone?"

His eyes rounded momentarily as he breathed out through his nose, then he stood from the table and hurried to the exit. Dani immediately looked relieved. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he has a crush on you," Clint commented. Matt smiled smugly, leaning back in his chair.

Dani sent Clint a glare. "He's what, fifteen? No, thank you," she exhaled, then looked at me. "Anyway, I have something for you." She reached down beside her chair a moment, then sat upright, sliding a rectangular box across the table toward me. I raised an eyebrow. "Is this going to explode?" I asked, teasing.

"Just open it," she rolled her eyes.

I sighed and carefully pulled the lid off the box. White tissue paper covered whatever was inside. I glanced up. Everyone was on the edge of their seats watching me. I shook my head, fighting a smile, and pushed away the tissue paper. My jaw nearly hit the floor, a small gasp escaping me. Folded neatly in the box was a deep blue leather jacket. I recognized it immediately. I quickly looked up at Dani.

"You're giving me your Angel jacket?" I questioned, in disbelief. She smiled at my reaction, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. "You've earned it, Alison," she said. "And I won't exactly be needing it anymore—thanks to Potter's new suits."

I looked back down at the jacket. "I…I don't know what to say..." I picked up the shoulders of it a bit to feel the worn leather on my fingers. Dani has been more of a friend to me than I ever expected. I mean, she covered up a murder for me. How many friends do _you_ have that would do that? And now she's giving me the trademark blue leather of her vigilante identity? I looked back up at her. "Thank you, Dani. It means a lot."

"No, thank _you_. After all, without you, I probably would never have become Angel in the first place," she pointed out, lightly. "You gave her wings. Giving you the jacket was the least she could've done." That is true. I'd almost forgotten. Dani's first vigilante escapade was saving me from Wesley when he tried to kill me, ten years ago.

"You say that like you're separate people," Clint said. "It's kind of creepy."

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I sat down in front of the glass. I slid my chair forward slightly, and then waited. About five minutes later, my brother sat down in front of me. I stared at him through the glass blankly. He picked up the phone and put it to his ear. I inwardly sighed and then did the same. "Orange looks good on you."

"Aren't you always the funny one," he smirked for a second and then it was gone. "I'm sorry to see you're not dead."

I closed my eyes and sighed, reining back my emotions. "About that." I leaned forward, propping myself on my elbow. "Why'd you do it, Ben? You're my brother-"

"HALF brother. And that's only because our father didn't find you satisfying enough."

"What'd Fisk say to you to make you want me dead? Has he got something on you?"

"Oh, Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie," he sighed. "You still don't understand. You think something has to have happened, or someone has to have said something, to get someone to turn. You think that evil is always forced. Because you can't bring yourself to think, to believe, that it's born. That people want it."

"No. I believe some do. Like Fisk. But not you."

"Why? Because I'm the little brother that could? Because I'm supposed to be _better_ than my father? Oh…I'm better. Just not in the way you were hoping."

I sat back, bewildered. "What…?" I pulled the phone from my ear and then put my mouth to the back of my hand. I sighed. I looked back up at him. He was grinning, knowing he was getting to me. I don't need to hear this. I can turn around and leave. I don't have to listen to his mind games. I put the phone back to my ear. "My point is…you were never like this. I want to know, why did you change? Why do you hate me, to the point of relishing in my death?"

"Andy." That was all he said. That one word caused all the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. "His death unleashed something in both of us. Don't try to deny it; I can see it in your eyes. That day we were both reborn. But you…pour little _Dani._ Couldn't live with herself knowing she could've done something to save her brother. You gave up being a hero, all those years ago, so that you couldn't have someone order you to kill others. How noble of you. I, for one, sleep better at night knowing you've fallen on the sword for me.

"You spent years turning a broken girl into a cold blooded killer…and Andy's death took that from you. It brought back the broken girl." He leaned forward, closer to the glass. "She needed a hero, so that's what she became," he mocked. He sat back. "Let's face the facts, _Danielle_. You became a hero to save yourself. You're the only one who needed an angel…and the only one who would fall in love with the devil. How ironic. You fall in love with the only man in New York completely against killing. How long will that last? Or, better yet-" he leaned in again. "-how long can you last?"

His eyes looked around the room, as if to make sure no one would hear what he was going to say. "Admit it. You love the sound of flesh tearing, bones crushing, the smell of blood. How long has it been? I'll bet, this new gig you've got, is just enough to tide you over. Oh, but be careful…one day, it won't be enough. One day…you'll need your fix. I'm sure you've already thought about it." He sat back. "One day the Angel of Hell's Kitchen will become the devil. And there is nothing you can do to stop it. We are who we are."

My hand shook, nearly dropping the phone. Tears brimmed the edge of my eyes. Was he right? I thought I could control it. I thought I could stop killing and change forever. Maybe I was wrong. How many times have I wanted to kill someone? How many times have I actually almost done it?

My eyes were glued to his. He smiled from ear to ear, knowing full well he's got me. He's won. I'm doubting myself. He adjusted the phone, switching ears. "Oh, don't cry, Elizabeth," he teased. "Here, let me help. I'll give you a tip, from a very wise man in another universe…'you either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain'." His face dropped, turning serious. "You missed your chance to die a hero. Now, it's your turn to become the villain."

I dropped the phone and abruptly stood, pushing away from the table. A guard rushed over to me. "Are you okay, Miss?"

"Just get me out of here." And he did. He led me back out and to the front parking lot. I felt like I was going to explode. Like everything in me wanted out at the same time. It can't be true; none of it can be true. I am not the villain. I'm not the villain. I repeated it in my head as I practically ran to my car. I fumbled with the keys, my whole body shaking. Once in the car, I drove as fast as I could. I wanted as far away from there as possible. But the damage has already been done. The words have already been said. And, I'm afraid…I believe them.

I don't really know why, but I drove to Matt's. I parked and then ran into the building. I headed up to his floor, two steps at a time. I'm not sure how late it is, probably past ten. I don't even know if he's home. I get to the top of the stairs, next to his door, and I start to lose it. I try to stop myself and hold it in. But it doesn't work.

I lean into the rail and start crying. My chest ached, my throat burned. Why am I letting this get to me so badly? I start sobbing, lowering myself down to the top step. I can't go any farther. Maybe Ben was right. Maybe I can't control it, and maybe I'll kill again. And, not just self defense, but on purpose. Because I _wanted_ to kill them. It wouldn't be the first time.

After a minute, I hear Matt's door unlock. "Dani…?" I stood as he came up to me. I instantly wrapped my arms around his neck. He held me as I continued to cry. "What's wrong? Is it your brother?"

I pulled back, resting my forehead against his. "I just-" I sniffled and then sighed. "Gosh, Murdock, can't you just hold me, while I cry, and tell me everything's going to be okay? I mean, why does this world hate me so much? Why does everything I come to have to try to kill me or tear me down? Can't, for once, something just be easy?"

Matt looked extremely saddened and sympathetic. But also, like he knows exactly how I feel. "I'm sorry…Dani." He wrapped his arms around me and held me. After a couple minutes, he picked me up bridal style and then carried me into his apartment.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My fingers held my jacket folds tightly together as I hurried up the sidewalk. Only a few feet and I was at St. Matthews Catholic Church. I pushed through the door and entered into the building. I was immediately bombarded with the smell of musk and vanilla scented candles. It's been a little under fourteen years since I'd stepped foot in any kind of church or place of worship. Not since my dad's funeral. I let the door swing closed behind me.

The room looked generally pretty empty of any people. It was much too far past mass for anyone to be left. My eyes raked over the dark wood pews just to be sure. Empty. I let out a breath and made my way down the center aisle. At the end, I glanced up at the large fixture of a crucified Jesus, hanging on his cross. What was I doing here? I don't belong in a church. People with blood on their hands don't deserve whatever mercy could come from this.

What god would forgive what I've done? I had to remind myself, _you're not here for forgiveness you're here for guidance_. Pulling my eyes away from the fixture, I made my feet carry me to the confessional booth. I stepped inside and closed the dark curtain. The bench creaked a bit as I sat down. My heart was in my throat. I did my best to swallow it down.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned," I paused, thinking of what to say. "I had a boyfriend, ten years ago…I loved him. But he didn't care about me—at least, not in the way I'd thought. It was an accident but I got pregnant. So…I told him and… _he_ told _me_ to get an abortion."

I heard Father Lantom inhale. "And did you?"

"No. I couldn't. I said no, and he tried to kill me. Thanks to a friend I got away. But I've been running ever since. A couple months ago, he came back into my life, claiming he was the good guy now—that he always had been. Of course, I didn't believe him. There was no way I could make myself trust him again," I looked down at my hands. "He kidnapped me in the name of protecting me, and I didn't believe him. I bought a gun to protect myself—just in case, you know?"

I had to stop for a second. Memories from that night were filtering in. It was already starting to press into my chest, like there were cinderblocks being placed there one by one. I inhaled, exhaled, and repeated the process twice before continuing, "He took me to some warehouse…he told me his boss told him to get rid of me all those years ago, that he did everything he's ever done…because he loved me."

 _His expression made it seem like he thought I was joking. Or maybe he was making a prayer of his own, that I wouldn't have learned how to use this thing. I stood to gain better ground, maybe steady myself a bit more. The gun stayed aimed for his chest. I sidestepped to get away from the chair, and then took slow steps backward. "I'm leaving, and if you try to stop me-"_

 _He stood. "You'll shoot me?" I stopped, but kept a defensive position. He started around the table with slow steps, holding his hands up. "It doesn't have to be like between us, Alison. I never wanted to hurt you. Never."_

 _I inhaled. "Don't you dare come any closer."_

"I didn't believe him. I was too scared—or…maybe it was just my pride. I couldn't see what was right in front of me; I didn't want to see it, because that would mean that he was telling the truth the whole time and I was wrong about him. He tried to get close to me-"

 _He stopped, only maybe just over a yard in front of me now. "I'll prove it to you." He slowly reached into his suit jacket, and I held the gun tighter, slipping my finger into the trigger guard. "Stop," I ordered, firmly. "Don't move or I will shoot." He kept his free hand up in surrender, but he kept reaching. "I'm not going to hurt you," he promised. "It's okay. Put the gun down."_

"-I told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen. He just kept saying that he wouldn't hurt me. But…" A wave of tears threatened to come up. I held them back as best I could, keeping them just barely behind the edge. "I was so scared…my hands were shaking…he reached for something in his pocket and I-" I stopped myself then, covering my mouth with my hand. What was I saying? This was ridiculous.

 _Yeah, confess your sins and then everyone will know what you did_. _Great job, Alison_. I tried squeezing my eyes shut to keep the tears back but a few managed to force their way out. I rested the back of my hand just under my nose. _Just say it. Say it out loud_. "I killed him," I admitted, almost at a whisper. A dense silence settled into my side of the box. I felt almost sick to my stomach.

"The Lord does not condone killing, but there is no _thou shalt not defend thyself_ either," Father Lantom broke his silence. "You were put under pressure and you acted as any human being would do in that situation."

I sniffled hard and wiped my eyes. "But, Father, what do I do? My son—he's only ten years old, and he'll never know his father. How do I tell him it's because I killed him?"

"Well, I can't tell you anything will be easy from now on. Because it won't. We're not brought into this world to discover how easy it is. Your son may be too young to understand it if you told him now but, when he's old enough, he will still love you. A son will not forsake his mother for the sins of his father," he answered, calmly. "Something I think you'd be wise to remember, is every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."

"What does that mean?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It means a future is not just promised to those who do not sin. You may have sinned by killing him, but you were also protecting yourself and your child. I don't think I would have trusted him either, to be completely honest," he explained. "Joel chapter two, verse twenty-five, says 'God can restore what is broken and change it into something amazing. All you need is faith'. There is always a plan for your life—whether or not you believe it. It may not seem like it now, Alison…but there is a future for you. And it's better than anything you could imagine right now."


	32. End

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I slammed my finger into the cash register's buttons, trying to make sure it understands that I'm pressing them. This time it worked and the cash drawer slid open. I sighed heavily. "Sorry about that," I apologized, pulling out change. "Here's your change—one, two, and three—please enjoy the rest of your day." I gave the customer her change; she smiled, took her to-go bag, and then promptly hurried to the exit.

Another customer that had to wait while I argued with my stupid cash register served and gone. This thing was supposedly new. Maybe I just wasn't using it right? I twisted to see Mary at another section of counter behind me. "How's it going back there, Mary?" I asked.

She visibly inhaled, finishing another order. "Fine, considering. But _you_ look stressed."

"Yeah," I chuckled humorlessly. "That's just the stress."

She smiled and shook her head, then started getting another order ready. Today was one of the busiest days we've ever had at the café. It had slowly been picking up more and more every day since the opening. It was a good thing, but at times it was completely hectic and chaotic. Like today. No one was waiting to be served at the moment so I moved to the back to help Mary.

Wrapping sandwiches, pouring drinks, tossing salads, attending to random items on the hot plate. These things and many more. Usually I man the espresso/coffee machine so I filled up some mugs and took an order of frappuccinos out to one of the tables. All women, probably a girls' day. "Alright, ladies. Here you are," I started handing out mugs and they got passed around the tables. "Can I get you anything else?"

One of them, a blonde, smiled. "Thank you, I think we're good."

"Alright, enjoy the drinks."

I folded the tray to rest under my arm and turned to head back to the counter. Just as I did, I noticed someone walking up to order. I inhaled. This is what you wanted, Alison. Own it. I hurried up behind the counter and slid the tray away before moving over to the cash register. "Hi there, welcome to Angel's. What can I get for you today?" I asked, plastering on a polite smile.

The man on the other side of the counter was tall, broad-shouldered and fit, with the standard military crew cut. But he had soft eyes and a dark button up shirt. He smiled politely back. "Hi, uh…I'll take four turkey sandwiches and four lemonades to-go," he answered.

I wrote it down as he spoke. "Okay. And what's the name for the order?"

"Frank."

I nodded and wrote it in the note before ripping it off the pad. Just then, a crackling sound echoed through the building a second before a familiar song started playing. Stand By Me by Ben E. King. I instinctively looked left over the counter at Chase. He was jumping in joy with fists in the air. When we'd gone to the junkyard a while back, he found an old jukebox. I knew it was a stupid idea.

But, like usual, I let him keep the jukebox to try and fix it up for the café. Looks like he finally got it working. The music was instantly filling the café and the customers seemed to enjoy it. "Ah, a jukebox. Did he load it with oldies or did it come like that?" Frank asked, with an amused smile.

"It came like that," I chuckled a little, then twisted to see Mary. She just finished attending to the hot plate. "Hey, got another one." I held it out toward her. She nodded once and took the note, looking serious, as if she were preparing for war. I turned back to the man at the counter. "Your total is twenty-three even," I said, typing it into the cash register. Maybe it'll actually work this time?

Just as I'd thought that, the green numbers on its black screen read _error_ and I sighed heavily. The man handed me twenty-five and I took it, and then started using my key to manually open the tray. And suddenly the key doesn't want to turn in the lock. "Sorry, my machine's been going crazy all week," I apologized, with an airy chuckle, trying to force the key to move.

"Ah, don't worry about it," he waved it away. "Keep the change."

I glanced up. "Are you sure? I can have this open in a couple minutes."

"It's fine, really, it's only two dollars," he chuckled, genuinely amused.

"Okay then, Frank, I'll call your name when your order is ready." I pulled the key out with a yank and slid it beside the machine. I really need someone to come and look at this darn thing. So much for _new_. "Alright, thank you," he nodded once, before turning and moving into the dining hall. I took a deep breath and turned around.

Mary had an in house order ready so I loaded up my serving tray with a couple dishes and headed around the counter. I dropped a salad off at a table near the door, another by the right wall, and a soup near the back of the dining area. While I was in the area, I decided to check in on Chase with his project.

He stood with the jukebox at the very back of the café, near the closet where we'd found Rueben. I noticed he had company. A young boy and girl, both looked to be either around his age or a year younger, in nice clothes. "Chase," I smiled, stepping up near the jukebox.

Chase was bubbling. "Mom, I finally have it working!"

"I know, good work, honey. And who are your new friends?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"This is Lisa and Frank Jr. Guys, this is my mom," he introduced. Both children said shy sounding hellos and I smiled at them. "Hello there, it's nice to meet you. You two doing anything fun today or just hanging around?" I asked, mostly to be nice.

"Mom and Dad are taking us to the park," Lisa spoke up, sounding excited.

"Really?" I emphasized my tone a bit and she nodded. "That sounds great-"

"Alison! I need you back here!" Mary called, from behind the counter.

I sighed and turned to Chase. "I've gotta work, you stay out of trouble, got it?" He gave me a look, like I was being ridiculous, and I hurried back to the counter. Mary had two orders ready—one in house and the other was to-go. I checked the note for the to-go order. _Frank_. I looked up at the dining hall. "Frank?" I called. A blonde woman quickly got up from her table and hustled up to the counter. "That would be me—I'm his wife," she said.

"Alright, then, here you go," I slid the bag across the counter and she took it. "Have a nice day."

She smiled. "Thanks, you, too." She took the bag back to her table and I loaded my tray up with the in house order, taking it out to the dining hall. "Thanks again." I heard a male voice and looked up. Frank waved once from the door in a polite gesture while his wife and two kids ambled out. I gave a polite smile and returned the wave, then continued to my next table. The song was just kicking up into the chorus and I found myself humming along.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I kept the bulk of what Ben told me to myself, and came up with some poor excuse for my 'emotional distresses'. I know Matt never bought it, but he didn't push for the right answer. He's been acting strange around me, since then. Like I might break. Who knows? I just might.

I sat on the edge of the roof to my building, in full Angel attire. I looked down at the ground, dangling my feet. I sighed and then looked back up, out at the city. It's so pretty at night. Every building has a light on. A real bustling metropolis. Though, you can't see the stars. Too many lights for that. But the city looks cool through blue lenses.

I heard footsteps behind me and then glanced over my shoulder. Daredevil was walking toward me. I pulled my legs up and then spun around so I was facing him. "You're late."

"You're early," he countered.

"True," I nodded. He slipped off his mask as he approached. He walked up to me, wrapping his arms around my middle. "So…how was _your_ day?"

He smiled. "Busy. You?"

"Same. An old friend keeps referring people to my business."

"Well, isn't that a good thing?"

"Not any more. I'm completely over booked. I don't even have time to think about how much time I don't have," I chuckled. "But, the lights are on and there's food on the table, so-" I shrugged. "Guess I should stop complaining." He smiled and then tiled his head. His expression went blank as he looked off somewhere in the distance. "Are they playing our song?"

He nodded, coming back to reality. "We should go." He stepped back and put on his mask.

"Roger that." I hopped down and picked up my bow. I folded it down and then slid it away. "Lead the way." He pulled out his sticks, taking one in each hand. He nodded, before turning and running toward the edge of the roof. "Of course," I sighed. "Always gotta be the hard way." I ran to catch up and then jumped off the roof with him. 


	33. The Scene at the End

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I sat at the desk in the main room, staring at my computer screen. I was reading as fast as I could, studying up on a case. In the distance I could hear Chase playing. He's been entertaining Lizzie, in the loudest ways he can think of. I hear some crashes and a few bangs. Then Lizzie bursts out into laughter. I sighed, trying to tune it out.

I could feel myself getting more annoyed by the second. I heard more bangs followed by more laughter. I opened my mouth to say something when the noise stopped. I sighed in relief and then decided to stay quiet. I went back to reading, after rereading the same line twenty times. I made it down to the second paragraph, enjoying the quiet.

I hear another crash and more laughter. I sigh. I keep staring at the screen, hoping it'll go away. Then I hear Chase making airplane sounds as I see him run by in my peripheral vision. My eyes flicker up, in an annoyed way. He's running around the room with a sheet tied around his neck, his arms stretched out, and a bucket on his head while Lizzie's face was turning red from laughing so hard. He slammed head first into the far wall. A picture frame crashed to the ground, glass shattering, as he landed on his butt.

I dropped my head into my hands and sighed.


	34. Author's Note

Hello, everyone!

Thank you so much for reading and continuing with us. We thank you for your support. We are very excited to let you know that book two of the Hell's Angel series will be available November 2nd 2016! We hope to see you then! Be looking on our profile or follow us for updates.

Sincerely,

Nightwing27th & bellamysgirl

P.S.

Be sure to copy and paste this link: channel/UCOu8q_dOJ8Qhx0-bdbwQ4xw into your browser, so you can check out all of the Hell's Angel trailers, teasers, and couple videos!


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